


((Archived Version)) A Sound of Thunder

by QueenSabriel



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, Gen, M/M, Minor Violence, Off-screen Character Death, au - declan dies instead of niall, coping with the death of a child, pynch happens faster than in canon because reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 51,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8095360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSabriel/pseuds/QueenSabriel
Summary: (Fic is being rewritten, check profile for new version) The day he buried his eldest son, Niall Lynch vowed he would never dream again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: As the summary/title indicate, I'm in the process of rewriting this fic, but want to leave this version up for reasons. Please check my profile for the new version!

_"Out of chars and ashes, out of dust and coals, like golden salamanders, the old years, the green years, might leap; roses sweeten the air, white hair turn Irish-black, wrinkles vanish; all, everything fly back to seed, flee death, rush down to their beginnings, suns rise in western skies and set in glorious_ _easts_ _, moons eat themselves opposite to the custom, all and everything cupping one in another like Chinese boxes, rabbits into hats, all and everything returning to the fresh death, the seed death, the green death, to the time before the beginning. A touch of a hand might do it, the merest touch of a hand."_   

_-_ Ray Bradbury, _A Sound of Thunder_  

*** 

Once upon a time, Niall Lynch had three sons. That was a while ago.  

Once upon a time, Niall Lynch had three sons and a farm filled with things from his dreams. Now he only had two sons, and a farm filled with the things one would expect a farm to be filled with.  His sons were as different as different could be: If Matthew was a goldfinch then Ronan was a raven. If Matthew was sunlight then Ronan was a thunderstorm. If Matthew was the last bit of whimsy left in the family, then Ronan was all of their sadness and anger. 

This is what had happened: One sunny Wednesday in June, Declan Lynch—a talented, bright, high-achieving student at Aglionby Academy—went missing. On Thursday, his body was found by his younger brother Ronan, broken and bloody in the driveway of their family home. On Friday, newspapers across the country ran varying stories about the brutal murder of a promising young teen in Virginia. 

And this is what people outside the family did _not_ know: On Saturday Niall Lynch destroyed almost everything he had ever dreamed into existence. On Sunday, Ronan stole his father's car and tried to run away but was dragged back home. On Monday, Niall began the slow and arduous process of filling his life with real, undreamed things.  

The day Niall Lynch buried his eldest son, he swore to himself that he would never dream again. 

*** 

It was just past ten in the evening when Niall Lynch pulled his charcoal  grey BMW into the parking lot of the Henrietta Police Station. He slammed the door as he got out and wondered if there was even any point to being angry with Ronan anymore; it wasn't like the boy listened.  

Niall wore a deep scowl on his face by the time he stepped through the front doors of the station and into the garishly lit lobby. Behind the desk an officer sat typing on her computer. Against the wall sat Ronan, slouched in an uncomfortable looking plastic chair, chewing on those leather bracelets of his. Niall stalked over to him, and Ronan lifted his gaze to his father's face but said nothing.  

"Ronan," Niall said. He leaned over, one hand on either arm of Ronan's chair. Ronan had a bruise blooming across one cheek and though his nose wasn't broken there was definite evidence of dried blood and swelling.  

Ronan's lip curled back in a smirk. "You should see the other guy." 

"I let you get that damned tattoo and you promised you wouldn’t get in any more fights at school," Niall hissed. "What did you do?" 

"This wasn't a fight at school," Ronan said with a shrug. "And I'm not even in trouble." 

Niall arched an eyebrow to say _We'll see about that_ as he straightened and turned to walk over to the front counter where the officer had been watching him curiously. "How're ya," he said. "I'm here for this eejit, I'm his father." 

"Mr. Lynch, of course, thanks for coming," said the officer as she slid a piece of paper and a pen over to him. "I just need to see your ID and then if you could sign this please..." 

"They didn't really tell me what happened over the phone," Niall said, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket.  

"Two of our officers responded to a report of a domestic disturbance earlier this evening," she said. "Your son was involved in a fight with the father of one of his friends from school. The, ah, other party involved is currently being held in custody pending charges for assault and child abuse." She bit her lip, watching Niall for a moment before elaborating, "Your son was defending another boy. He's not in trouble, though I would suggest speaking with a lawyer as your son may be asked to testify if the charges result in an in depth trial and investigation." 

Niall held his wallet in one hand, his expression faltering as he puzzled over what she had said. He didn't have to ask _which_ friend it was; there was only one friend of Ronan's who showed up with bruises too big to be from the things he said they were. Giving himself a shake, Niall looked down and started trying to coax his driver's license out of his wallet. He wondered vaguely how the hell he was supposed to punish Ronan when he was doing exactly what Niall had taught him to do. 

There were a few doors at the back of the room, behind the desk, and while Niall was struggling with his license one of them opened. Niall did not look up, however, until someone snarled his name. 

" _Lynch!"_  

Niall looked up. His expression went from curious to cold in less than a second. "Robert Parrish," he said, sliding the license across the counter to the officer. 

Robert Parrish was a drunken brute of a man, and Niall had never liked him. Thankfully they'd never had much more interaction than a look exchanged when Niall dropped Adam off at home once or twice, though that was enough to let Niall know that Parrish hated him. Currently, however, Parrish wasn't in much position to do anything; he was handcuffed and restrained by a second police officer, and his face looked considerably worse for the wear. 

Ronan had been right. Niall felt a flare of paternal pride. 

"Niall Lynch," Parrish snarled again. "That son of yours is a fucking animal, it's him should be the one gettin' locked up!" 

"Somehow I doubt that," Niall said coolly. He signed the form and looked at the other man again. "Tell me, which hurts more: that broken nose itself or the fact that a seventeen-year-old did it to ya?" 

Behind him, Ronan let out a sharp "Hah!" 

"Fuck you," Parrish snapped, but the officer hurried him through another door before he could continue. 

Shaking his head, Niall looked back at the officer behind the counter. He flashed her a smile and asked, "Is that all, sweetheart? Are we free to go?" 

"Uhuh," she said, raising an eyebrow at him skeptically as she handed back the driver's license and took the form.  

Niall tapped the countertop with his fingertips as he turned and gestured to Ronan. "C'mon, up with ya, let's go." 

Ronan got to his feet, taking the keys to his own car out of his pocket, "Can I—" 

"Like hell you can," Niall said, starting towards the door and glancing back to make sure Ronan was following. "We'll come back and get your car later." 

"Fine," Ronan huffed. He followed, though it was at an intentionally lazy pace so by the time Niall reached the BMW, Ronan was barely out the door. 

Niall's annoyance from earlier started creeping back. Sucking his teeth, he yanked open the passenger side door. "I'm not having this, Ronan! Get in the bloody car and stop dragging your feet!" 

Ronan rolled his eyes and started walking a little quicker, but as he slipped into the passenger seat he hissed, "Whatever," at his father the way most people would say 'fuck you.' 

Niall slammed the door closed and circled around to get in the driver's side. He put the key in the ignition but didn't start it; instead he let his fingers hang on the bottom of the wheel as he leaned back and looked at his son. A minute passed. "Well?" Niall said. 

"Well what?" Ronan was picking at a loose thread on his trousers, which were stained with dirt and grass and a few drops of blood. "The lady told you what happened." 

"Ay, but I want to hear it from you." 

Ronan clenched his jaw. He jerked his chin up, focusing his gaze somewhere outside the windshield. "I took Adam home tonight and his dad came out and threw Adam down the stairs. So I beat the shit out of him. Now Adam's in the hospital and his dad's in jail and I'm not fucking sorry for what I did." 

"Jays." Niall rubbed his face with one hand, then looked at Ronan again. In the orange glow of the parking lot lights he took in the sharp angles of Ronan's face and shaved head. The tattoo that poked up from his collar looked very at home on his skin in that moment.  "Jays," Niall breathed again.  

"He's been abusing Adam for _years_ , Dad," Ronan ground out, still not looking at him.  

Niall tapped the wheel with his fingers. "You should've told me. We could've helped Adam before it got this far." 

"He didn't want anyone to say anything," Ronan said. "But whatever. I'd do it again, I don't care." 

"That's your god damn problem, isn't it?" Niall said sharply. "You _don't_ care. Christ, Ronan. What if that man had fought with more than just his fists? I buried one son already I'm not burying you too because you were too fucking stupid to ask for help instead of throwing yourself into something." 

Ronan laughed. It was a cruel sound. " _You_ taught me how to fight!" 

"To protect yourself!” 

“Yeah and how did that work out for Declan, huh?” 

Icy silence settled in the car. Niall’s knuckles had gone white where he gripped the steering wheel. It took several long seconds before he could let go and start the car. Looking at Ronan he snapped, “Keep your damn mouth shut until we get home.” 

***  

Aurora and Matthew were still up when Niall and Ronan got back to the Barns. Leaving Ronan in the living room with his brother, Niall went through to the kitchen where Aurora was pouring two cups of tea at the counter. She always had an uncanny knack for knowing just when Niall would be getting home. 

“Oh,” Niall sighed loudly as he stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “That son of ours. I don't know where he gets it.” 

“I wonder...” Aurora said, amused. She leaned back into his embrace for a moment. “Is Ronan all right?” 

“He’ll be fine,” Niall said. Then, heavier he added, “Adam Parrish’s father was abusing him. Ronan saw him throw Adam down the stairs of their place." 

Aurora let out a little gasp, turning her head. “That's awful.” 

“Aye, and Ronan was having none of it, as you can imagine. Gave Robert Parrish a sound thrashing.” Niall let out a puff of air. “I wouldn't be so angry with him except he was giving me attitude while we were leaving. I just, _god_ , I _need_ Ronan to understand why he can't go around thinkin’ he's invincible and acting the fool all the damn time!” 

“Niall,” Aurora said gently, turning in his arms and reaching up to cup his face in her slender hands. “You can't protect him from everything. He's a teenager, the more you try to keep him restrained the more he's going to fight back.” 

He closed his eyes, stretching his neck in an irritated sort of way, then nodded. "I know. But he's changed, 'Rora, and it's not just that whole mess he and his friends've been getting into. He's getting wild. I worry about him." 

"Of course you do," she murmured, then nodded in the direction of the door. 

Niall turned to see the boys standing in the doorway. Matthew looked sleepy, Ronan did not. Cradled in the crook of Ronan's arm was that baby raven of his, and she thankfully looked as tired as the younger Lynch child.  

Aurora clicked her tongue. "Oh, Ronan, your face. Sit down you need to put ice on that." 

And because she was his mother, Ronan walked over and sat down at the kitchen table without protest. Matthew sat next to him. Niall leaned against the counter for a minute while Aurora went to fill a bag with ice, then he walked over to stand behind his older son. Leaning over he wrapped his arm around Ronan's shoulders.  

"Dad..." Ronan said, trying to shrug him off.  

"I'm not mad at you for protecting your friend, alright?" Niall said, not budging. "Next time though you call the police _first_." 

"Fine, yeah, whatever," Ronan said. "Can we go see Adam tomorrow? And get my car?" 

Niall nodded, letting go and straightening. "Yes, but don't think you're going anywhere else this weekend, you've chores to do." 

Ronan rolled his eyes but didn't say anything, as Aurora had handed him the ice pack for his nose. 

Taking one of the teacups from the counter, Niall sat down across from the two boys and let out a long sigh.  

It was almost June. Things were always worse this time of year. 

*** 

When they made it to the hospital the next morning they found Adam Parrish sitting up in bed poking listlessly at his breakfast. He looked up when they entered and gave a little nod. "Hey, Ronan. Mr. Lynch." 

"Mom sent some real food for you," Ronan said, tossing a tinfoil wrapped sandwich into Adam's lap as he sat down next to the bed.  

Niall went to stand at the end of the bed, his hands resting on the footboard. "How're you doing, Adam?" 

The boy shrugged. He had a small bruise on one cheek, and his left ear was a startling shade of red but other than that he had fewer signs of external damage than Niall would have expected. Leaning back against the pillow, Adam looked up at the ceiling and said, "The doctor said I can leave today." 

"That's it?" Ronan said skeptically. 

 Adam looked down again, thumbing at the tinfoil wrapped food though he didn't open it yet. "I prolly won't be able to hear out of my left ear ever again." 

Niall exchanged a look with Ronan, then shook his head, sighing. "Jaysus. I'm so sorry, Adam. If there's anything we can do..." 

Adam said nothing, keeping his eyes down.  

In the silence that followed, Niall's phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He slid it out, thinking it might be Aurora, but the screen simply read "Private." Holding up a finger to the boys, Niall stepped out into the hallway, waiting until the door clicked shut behind him before he answered.  

"Yeah?" 

"Niall Lynch," drawled a man's voice on the other end. "The great bastard himself. How've you been, man?" 

For several seconds Niall was silent, his lip curling. When he did speak it was to snarl a single word; " _Greenmantle._ " 

"That's me. Listen, I'll cut to the chase, we've both got better things to be doing." Colin Greenmantle always managed to sound like he'd either done too many lines of coke that morning or was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "I've been patient, I've been generous, I gave you _two years_ and that's a fucking long time, I don't do that for just anyone. But that time is almost up, Niall, and I can't help but notice that you still haven't given me what I asked for." 

"Fuck off," Niall said lowly.  

"What kills me, what just _kills_ me," Greenmantle said slowly. "Is that your son is _dead_. Your sixteen-year-old son is _dead_ because of your big mouth. You still have two other kids, man, and yet somehow in your brain there's still a question of whether or not you should give me what I'm asking for." He started laughing. "Sometimes I'm just blown away by what a terrible fucking father you are, Lynch! Like _wow!_ Most people don't have this problem, you know? But your ego is so _huge_ that you have to weigh it against the lives of literally your entire family. So here's how this is going to work: you give me the Greywaren, _now_ , or I kill everyone you love. It's that simple." 

Niall gritted his teeth. "And what if I kill you first?" 

"Then you don't just lose your family, Niall, your entire world goes up in flames," Greenmantle whispered. "I'm a fucking deadman switch. You kill me and who knows what'll happen. Your little BFF Seondeok. Every family of every friend your sons have. Anyone who's ever worked with you. Bang. Boom. Over and out. But there's one easy solution, Lynch—give me the Greywaren. Then I'll leave you alone for good. Tick tock, Niall. Tick tock."  

The line went dead.  

Niall Lynch closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, allowing himself just a second of trembling panic before he straightened, took a deep breath, and went back inside the hospital room. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

When Adam awoke to complete and utter silence, he first felt only panic. For a few oppressive seconds he thought that maybe the damage was worse than they'd thought and now he had lost hearing in _both_ ears. Then from somewhere far away he heard a bird singing, and he remembered; he was at the Barns. Niall Lynch had invited him to stay with them for a bit, just until he could clear his head enough to decide whether or not he was going to move into Monmouth Manufacturing with Gansey and Noah. Adam thought he already knew the answer to that, but after the chaos of the past week the prospect of staying with the Lynch family was far from unappealing, even if it did leave him with a strange pang in his chest that he had yet to identify as jealousy. 

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Early pre-dawn light filtered in through the gauzy curtains of the guest room. Without being told Adam knew this room had once belonged to Ronan's older brother, though that was pure process of elimination on Adam's part as no one had said anything and there was no indication  that a teenage boy had ever lived in the room.  

Glancing at the clock Adam saw that it wasn't even five a.m. yet. He sighed and lay back down. Sleep hadn't come easily that night, or the night before at the hospital. There were no nightmares, he simply kept waking up every hour or so and his sleep was far from deep even when he could find it. 

Adam closed his eyes and tried vainly to clear his head. 

*** 

At some point he registered the sound of the door opening and Ronan's voice saying something about church and they would be back soon. 

*** 

Late morning sunlight fell into the room. Somewhere outside a raven cawed. 

*** 

Sounds from downstairs cut into a dream where Adam was dressed in wizard's robes and trying to climb a tree. 

*** 

Sleep.  

Blissful, dark, dreamless. 

*** 

"Adam?" The voice was as soft and gentle as the touch on Adam's shoulder. "Sweetheart, you should try to wake up for a bit." 

He frowned, his groggy mind struggling to figure out whose voice that would be. Then he opened his eyes and rolled over to find Aurora Lynch leaning over him, her face pinched in concern. "Hu..." Adam began, feeling embarrassment seeping through his drowsiness. He sat up, rubbing his face. "What time is..." 

"It's just past two in the afternoon," Aurora said softly.  

"Jesus," Adam breathed, looking at the clock to see that she was right. "Sorry, Mrs. Lynch, I didn't..." 

Aurora smiled and shook her head. "No, it's all right. But you should have something to eat at least." 

"Okay, yeah," Adam couldn't make himself meet Aurora's gaze.  

She lingered for a moment before nodding and turning to slip out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind her Adam got to his feet and went to root in the bag of his things he'd brought for clean clothes. He felt muzzy and sick from oversleep. His throat felt scratchy.  

Downstairs Adam made his way to the kitchen where he found a plate with a sandwich and some potato chips and a glass of coke waiting for him on the table. Aurora was washing dishes by the sink, looking out across the lawn. She turned and smiled when Adam stepped into the room. "There you are." 

"Thanks, ma'am," Adam said as he sat down at the table. "I didn't mean to sleep so much." 

"Sometimes you just need to shut down," Aurora said softly. "Especially after..." But her voice trailed off. 

Adam nodded. He took a sip of soda, but it tasted dull on his tongue. Not flat, just dull.  

The back door banged open and Ronan slouched into the kitchen. Bits of hay clung to his black tank top and he smelled, not unpleasantly, of dirt and animals. He sat down across from Adam and leaned over to steal a potato chip off his plate. Chainsaw hopped from Ronan's shoulder to the back of his chair. 

"Yo, Parrish, get enough sleep?" Ronan asked, resting his elbows on the table. 

"Too much," Adam said. "How was church this morning?" 

Ronan made a face. "Very holy. Also Gansey hasn't stopped texting me.” 

“About me?” Adam asked, feeling sick anxiety starting to creep back into the pit of his stomach. Monmouth was the easiest and most obvious choice. It would mean not having to worry about looking for an apartment, it would mean not having to worry about rent. But it belonged to Gansey, and what Adam wanted, beyond anything else, was to be his own man, completely and truly. He shook his head. “I can’t…I can't go live with him.” 

"Whatever, _I_ don't care," Ronan said, snorting. “I don't have any stake in it.” He took another potato chip but this one he gave to Chainsaw, who hopped onto the table to crush it with repeated stabs of her beak. Ronan kept his eyes on her as he said quietly, “Dad said that sometimes St. Agnes’ has rooms for rent. They're not fancy but they're cheap. You could call and ask if you're interested.” 

Adam closed his eyes for a second, letting out a breath. “Thanks.” Then, “Why are you being so nice?” 

“Wow,” Ronan said with a hard bark of laughter. “Fuck you, Parrish, why do you sound so surprised?” 

“Ronan!” This was Aurora, who had still been quietly washing dishes. She spun around to frown at her son, giving a shake of her head and saying simply, “Do _not._ ” 

Ronan scoffed and held up his hands. “Sorry, sheesh. He knows I'm kidding.” 

Adam _did_ know that was just Ronan being Ronan, but he still frowned down at his plate. This whole scene was building inside of him a jealousy so deep and profound that for a moment he thought he might actually _hate_ Ronan. Not for who he was but for what he had, because here was such a perfect epitome of a family: the golden haired mother washing dishes, the younger brother laughing in the side yard, the father tending to the cows and the garden…and the older brother, taking all of that for granted. 

_No_ , Adam reminded himself as he took a steadying breath and watched Ronan scratch the back of his buzzed head. _N_ _o they have their shit_ _too. Ronan_ _lost his brother. He doesn't take any of this for granted._  

Ronan was watching him. “What's wrong with your face?” 

“Sorry,” Adam mumbled, but he wasn't sure what he was saying sorry for. He looked down and took a bite of the sandwich Aurora had made him, though he wasn't feeling very hungry. What he _did_ feel was nervous energy; he couldn't just sit here and sleep another day away. There was still the sleeping ley line, there was still Whelk, there was still Cabeswater.  

Aurora dried her hands and left the kitchen. 

Adam looked at Ronan. “What are we going to do about the ley line?” 

“What?” Ronan clearly hadn't been expecting that change of topic. “Jesus. Nothing. You heard what Gansey said, that one guy literally lost his skin trying to wake one. Besides you don't need to worry about that right now you've got—” 

“Oh really?” Adam snapped, anger surging up inside of him. Despite part of his brain warning him to stop, the words just kept flowing: “You know what I should be worrying about better than me, huh? Maybe I don't want to sit around and wallow about what my dad did to me. Maybe I want to move on and think about something else. Or were you going to suggest I steal someone's car and crash it? Cuz that's what you did, right? Real productive.” 

The look Ronan gave him was enough to tell Adam that he had crossed a line. It was a look of cold and anger, and underneath it a note of utterly stinging hurt. Without saying anything Ronan leaned over and hit the edge of Adam’s plate, flipping it over and sending food scattering across the table and floor. Chainsaw shrieked and hopped over to the counter.  

“Fuck you,” Ronan spat, jumping to his feet and turning to storm out the back door—or rather, he would have, but his father was blocking the way. 

Niall’s face looked calm, but he grabbed Ronan’s arm tightly, turning him forcefully around to face Adam. “Apologize,” Niall said. “ _Now._ I did not raise you to treat your friends like that, especially not when they're guests in your home.” 

_Please don't,_ Adam wanted desperately to say. He wanted Niall to realize this would just make Ronan more angry with him. He wanted to say that he was sorry too, that he had started this… 

Ronan yanked his arm out of his father's grasp and stalked over. For a wild moment Adam thought he was about to push him out of his seat, but Ronan just leaned over and set the plate right-side up on the table so he could start picking up the bits of sandwich fillings and potato chips.  

"Ronan," Niall growled. 

"What? Fine, I'm sorry," Ronan said begrudgingly, looking up at the ceiling.  

Adam bit his lip. "I'm sorry too," he said, then held out his hand even though it felt a little stupid. "Truce?" 

"Dude, seriously?" Then, all at once, in a split second Ronan's anger evaporated as he regarded the offered hand. He laughed, not unkindly. "No, make a fist. A _fist_ , Parrish, there you go." He reached out to bump their knuckles together. The gesture caused a wash of relief to flow through Adam. "Okay, now get up so I can finish cleaning this fucking mess I made." 

*** 

It was night again and Adam couldn't sleep. He was sure that this had something to do with sleeping until 2 in the afternoon that day, now his brain wasn't ready to go back. Instead he sat up in bed and thought. 

No, not thought. He _worried_. It was not a logical worry—Adam knew what he had to do next. He had to call St. Agnes' and ask about renting an apartment, he had to rebudget, maybe take on a few more shifts at work. He had to prepare for the inevitable court date against his father. 

His father. Homesickness was not the feeling Adam expected at the thought of Robert Parrish, but it was what came to him as he sat there in a bed that wasn't his and a home that wasn't his. Ronan's parents had shown Adam more kindness in the past forty-eight hours than Adam's own parents had shown him in all sixteen years of his life. But for some frustratingly _wrong_ reason, Adam still felt homesick. 

_My mother will never speak to me again_ , he thought. He thought about his mother and her tired, worn face. He thought about Aurora Lynch, who looked like a fairy queen from a lavishly illustrated children's book. He thought about the way Aurora had called him "sweetheart" and how worried she looked when he had slept all day. He thought about his own mother and how she only ever called him "Adam" and how angry she had looked when he said he was pressing charges against his father. None of it was right. 

What also wasn't right was that Barrington Whelk might reach Glendower before they could. Barrington Whelk, who did not deserve to have his wishes granted might snatch this one thing right out from under them and all Gansey or Ronan or Blue wanted to do was _wait_ and be cautious.  

Adam pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. This was no time for caution.  

He knew what he needed to do. 

Sliding from the bed, Adam knelt and pulled his ratty duffel bag towards him. Sliding his hand inside he felt around in the jumble of clothes until his fingers found cold metal: his father's gun. He had taken it when they went to get his things from the trailer. He had taken it out of fear for his mother. 

Checking the safety, Adam put the gun in his messenger bag, then turned towards the door. He still needed a way to get to Cabeswater. 

He opened the door as quietly as he could, then crept across the hallway and opened the door to Ronan's room as quietly as he could. In the moonlight that spilled in through the curtains, he could see Ronan lying sprawled on his bed, asleep, unmoving. Even with only one good ear Adam could hear the faint whisper of music playing from Ronan's headphones.  

Adam looked around. He hoped Ronan's car keys were somewhere out in the open, but he didn't immediately see them. Careful not to trip on any of the clutter on the floor, Adam edged towards the bed, trying to see if the keys were on the nightstand.  

Ronan rolled over. He stretched, but did not wake.  

For a short, breathless moment, Adam looked down at the other boy. Ronan slept, as usual, in only his boxers, and the shine from the window threw each line of his body into sharp relief. Something stirred in Adam as he self-indulgently let his gaze linger a little too long on Ronan's chest and stomach, and he wasn't entirely sure that the feeling was jealousy, but he didn't know what else it could be.  

A glint caught Adam's eye. There, on the nightstand next to Ronan's phone were the keys to his car. _Don't wake up_ , Adam thought as he closed his fingers around the keys and started to lift them, his gaze flicking to Ronan's sleeping form again. _Don't wake up_. 

Ronan did not wake up. Adam held the keys to his chest, waiting, holding his breath, then he slowly backed out of the room.  

It was time to go wake the ley line. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Roughly one month later..._

 

"I think," said Richard Gansey III as he leaned back in the driver's seat of his bright orange Camaro, "That I should call Malory before we try going any further." 

Next to him in the passenger's seat Ronan Lynch let out a long sigh. "It's a fucking _lake_ , man, why can't we just go around it?" 

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon in late June. Gansey, Ronan, Blue, Adam, and Noah were all crammed into the Pig, trying to escape a summer heat that was only moderately mediated by the faulty air conditioning of the car. They had just spent the better part of the day trying to explore the perimeter of Cabeswater, only to be stopped by a small lake that was now also the final resting place of the strange model airplane Ronan had dreamed up. 

Blue, sitting in the back between Adam and Noah, scooted to the edge of her seat so that she could lean forward between Gansey and Ronan. "I hope you don't mean right now," she said, sounding more grumpy than she felt. "I realize that one of us back here isn't entirely corporeal but it's still not very comfortable." 

Gansey rubbed a hand over his own sweaty forehead and looked at Blue, then at Ronan. "Hey, think your parents would mind if we hang out at your place for a bit? We're closer to the Barns than Henrietta." 

"You just want to go there because Mom will give us food," Ronan said. He had leaned his head against the cracked vinyl of the door, eyes closed.  

"I wouldn't say no to food," Blue said. "Plus I haven't been to your house yet, I'd like to see the place that produced the infamous Ronan Lynch." 

He cracked one eye open to peer at her, then said with a smirk, "Sure, maggot, just for you." 

Blue gave him an exaggeratedly sweet smile and sat back. She _was_ actually interested to see where Ronan lived; she had a whole lot of conflicting mental images of what the place might look like and wanted to find out which were accurate. She was also a little curious to meet his reclusive parents, even with all the time she'd been spending with the boys lately she'd only ever seen Niall Lynch once from a distance. 

Gansey started up the car with a roar and they were soon back on the main road, headed to the Barns. While he drove Gansey continued to postulate about Cabeswater and the ley line, but the rest of the group were too exhausted from a day of walking and exploring to give much input back to him. Blue turned to look at Adam, though his gaze was focused outside of the window so he didn't see her staring.  

Blue couldn't stop herself from worrying. The summer was barely underway and already so much had happened.  

*** 

A surprisingly short time later Gansey turned them off the empty two-lane highway that ran through Singer's Falls and onto a gravel drive that twisted its way under the thick boughs of overhanging trees. Blue found herself holding her breath a little, the sudden shade and quiet made it feel like they were entering another world entirely. It reminded her more than a little of Cabeswater. 

Then Gansey turned the car around a tight bend and Blue saw the farm itself spreading out in front of them. First there was the farmhouse, looking like something off an idyllic postcard with its white siding, a porch populated by wicker chairs, flowers growing in boxes under the windows, and clothes drying on lines strung between the house and a nearby tree.  

Past the house rolled a veritable ocean of green and golden fields, dotted with the multitude of barns for which the farm had gotten its name. Blue could make out the shapes of animals as well, cows and maybe horses or sheep or goats.  

She was glad to see that most of her imagined images of the farm hadn't been far off. 

Before anyone could get out of the car, Ronan turned in his seat. He looked at Blue, but when he spoke it was to everyone. "My dad can't know that I've been dreaming shit up, okay?" he said. "He can't know about how I got Chainsaw, he can't know about that airplane. None of it. Understood?" 

"Why?" Noah said, peering at him. "D'you think he'd be mad?" 

Ronan's expression turned slightly sour. "Mad would be an understatement." And with that he got out of the car. 

Blue glanced at Adam for a moment, raising her eyebrows, but he just shrugged and moved to follow Ronan. Blue, Noah, and Gansey got out as well, stretching and looking around. There were two other cars in the parking area, both BMWs. One Blue recognized as Ronan's; the other was a slightly older model that she guessed belonged to Ronan's parents. She tried, breifly, to imagine what it was like to be the kind of child who got a BMW on their sixteenth birthday.  

The front door of the house opened then and out stepped a man who looked too much like Ronan to be anyone but Niall Lynch. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt, and as he lifted a hand in greeting to them the sun glinted off both his wedding ring and another silver ring around his thumb. As he got closer Blue saw he wore a Celtic cross on a leather band around his neck. She was starting to piece together a first impression of Niall Lynch that wasn't all that far from the things she'd heard from other people. 

"Brought the whole crew didja?" Niall said, glancing at his son. The accent took Blue a little by surprise, despite having known that Ronan's father grew up in Belfast. "What've you lot been up to?" 

"Take a wild guess," Ronan said. "Gansey wants to drain a lake." 

"I don't want to _drain_ it," Gansey said, sniffily. "I want to get energy readings from the bottom of it." 

"Oh, right, just that," Niall said with a laugh. He shook Gansey's hand. "Good to see you, Gansey. Adam. Noah. How're ya."  

Noah beamed. "Hi Mr. Lynch."  

This too was a surprise for Blue. She looked over at Ronan who gave a little nod and a shrug, like his father had done something completely normal for a parent to do and had not, in fact, been one of the few people to acknowledge the existence of their very dead friend. When Blue looked back she found Niall's piercing blue eyes were fixed on her. 

"This one," he said, pointing with his pinky finger. "I don't think I've met." 

"Blue Sargent," she said, holding her hand out. "It's nice to meet you." 

To her bemusement, Niall took her hand with a flourish and touched a polite kiss to the back of her fingers. "Miss Sargent, a pleasure." He winked and let go of her hand. 

Blue had no idea how to respond to that so she let out a nervous little laugh and shot Ronan a baffled sideways look. 

" _Dad_ ," Ronan said, loudly, rolling his eyes. "Jesus Christ." 

"What?" Niall looked at him, somehow managing to look both smug and innocent at the same time. Then he glanced around. "Did you not bring Matthew?" 

Ronan scowled. "Why the hell would we have Matthew? Where is he?" 

"In town with some of his friends," Niall said. "Didn't know if he'd ask for a ride home or not." 

"I'm not going back to get him," Ronan said, his scowl deepening. "We've got shit to do. Is Mom inside?" 

Niall raised an eyebrow. "She is. But don't yous go bothering her for food, you know how to get your own damn snacks. Best let her know if this lot is staying for dinner though. Go on." Giving Ronan a good natured pat on the back, he turned and headed around to the far side of the house. 

Ronan let out a disgruntled groan and looked at Blue. "God. You can ignore him." 

"He knows I'm your age right?" Blue said as they all turned and headed up to the house.  

"Yeah," Ronan said, making a face. "He's just being fucking embarrassing." 

Blue snorted, but decided now wasn't the time to go into exactly why older men flirting with younger women, even if the intent was an innocent one, was a problem. Instead she followed Ronan inside. 

*** 

The interior of the house was cluttered, and comfortable, and welcoming. Soft furniture filled the living room, and soft music filtered through the air from somewhere. A woman sat reading on the couch, though she looked up when the group of teens tramped through the front door. She smiled and set her book down. 

"Hey, Mom," Ronan said, and went to lean over and hug her. "Is it okay if everyone stays for dinner? This is Blue Sargent by the way, Blue this is my mom." 

Aurora Lynch smiled and waved her fingers at Blue. "It's nice to meet you," she said.  

"You too, ma'am," Blue said, smiling back. It would've been impossible to do anything _but_ smile back. 

"Dinner?" Ronan prompted again. 

"Oh, yes I suppose that's fine," Aurora said, nodding. "Has Matthew said when he's going to be back?" 

Ronan had already started towards the hall that led deeper into the house. "No and I told Dad I'm not going to drive all the way back there to pick him up." He paused in the doorway, trying and failing to look stern. 

"Ronan," Aurora said. "We've been working all day, it would be nice if you could save your father the trip." 

"He should fucking teach Matthew how to drive." 

Aurora's expression became not exactly _angry_ , but certainly displeased. 

"Sorry, Mrs. Lynch," Gansey said, reaching over to punch Ronan's shoulder. "He's got an empty stomach and it's gone to his head. Ronan, let's go in the kitchen so I can call Malory." The two of them started down the hall.  

Blue hesitated a moment, then she, Adam and Noah followed after them at a bit of a slower pace. The narrow, picture-lined hallway opened up into a kitchen that was mostly dominated by the large wooden table in the middle. Gansey was standing in the far corner, already with his phone to his ear, while Ronan grabbed a random assortment of chip bags from the cabinets. Chainsaw, Blue saw, had made herself comfortable on a perch by one of the windows. 

"I don't understand why you're so rude to your parents," Adam said to Ronan as they all took seats around the table. 

"My dad deserves it," Ronan said. "I just forget that Mom hates it when I swear around her." 

"Your dad seemed...nice," Blue said. "A little full of himself but—" 

" _Hah_ ," Ronan said. "A little? Sargent, my dad has the biggest ego in the whole damn county." 

Blue stuck her tongue out at him. "Except for yours, maybe." 

"No," Ronan said. "I just _know_ I'm awesome." 

"Sure, Lynch," Adam said, reaching for one of the bags of chips.  

"Hey, remember when I _didn_ _'t_ murder you for stealing my car?" 

Gansey lowered the phone from his ear, putting his hand over the bottom of it. "Can you guys be quiet for two seconds?" 

"Ronan was just telling us how he doesn't have an ego," Blue said. 

"Lynch that's a lie and you know it," Gansey said, then went back to his phone call. 

Ronan made a displeased little grunt. "Why do I even hang out with you guys." 

*** 

The Grey Man prided himself on blending in.  

One of the first things he had learned about it was that if you _acted_ like you were supposed to be somewhere, people were considerably less likely to question you. Even if that somewhere was a small Virginian town where no doubt everyone knew everyone else and a strange man dressed all in grey would have normally stuck out like a sore thumb. But he had managed to trail after Matthew Lynch for most of the day without any suspicion. A few people had even smiled and said hello. 

Currently, the Grey Man sat on top of a picnic bench overlooking a river. He had a half-eaten sandwich in his hands and a bottle of coke next to him. His gaze was fixed on the group of boys floating in a rowboat in the middle of the river. Only one of the boys was an Aglionby boy, and that was Matthew Lynch, golden haired and dimpled. The others were local town boys, the kind who normally would sneer at Aglionby Boys from a distance (though the Grey Man did not know that yet).  

It would have been hard to sneer at eternal-ray-of-sunshine Matthew Lynch, who was so drastically different from both his living brother and his dead one.  

The Grey Man almost felt bad about what he had to do, but work was work, and Greenmantle had given him very specific instructions.  

The boys in the river were starting to bring their boat in, so the Grey Man wrapped up his sandwich and got to his feet. He lingered in the shadow of the trees while the boys returned the boat to the back of someone's pickup truck and started getting ready to leave.  

"You guys go on!" Matthew called to them. "I gotta call my dad to come get me. I'll see you later!"  

The Grey Man waited until the other boys had driven away. While Matthew was still fumbling in his pockets for his phone, the Grey Man started towards him. He moved quickly, grabbing the boy by his shirt and hauling him around behind the disused boathouse where no one could see them.  

Matthew Lynch wasn't a small person, but he didn't feel like he knew how to use that size the same way his father or brother did. The Grey Man shoved him up against the wall, pinning him there easily.  

The boy's eyes were wide. "Oh no..." he said in a small voice. 

How had Niall Lynch produced _this_? Niall Lynch, larger than life Irish bastard who could throw a punch as easily as he could quote Yeats off the top of his head, who couldn't keep his mouth shut and swore like a sailor. How had he fathered this blonde haired boy whose light blue eyes were brimming with frightened tears? 

Reaching under his jacket, the Grey Man took out his gun. When Matthew Lynch saw it, two fat tears rolled down his cheek and he let out a shaky breath. The Grey Man looked at him and touched the gun to his temple. "I'm not going to kill you today, Matthew," he said calmly. "I just need you to know that I could. At any time. Do you understand?" 

The boy stared at him with a look of blank terror. The Grey Man wondered if he was maybe just not all that bright. 

"Do you understand?" he said again, and this time Matthew nodded. "Good boy," said the Grey Man as he returned the gun to the holster under his arm. 

Matthew Lynch punched him. 

To give him credit, the punch did take the Grey Man completely by surprise, and that was entirely his own fault. And, _man_ _,_ could that boy throw a punch—maybe he wasn't so stupid after all.  Stumbling back the Grey Man had to shake his head a couple times to clear it, though that gave Matthew a chance to also punch him in the stomach. 

This was apparently just a ploy to get away, though the minute Matthew tried to run the Grey Man grabbed him and threw him against the wall again.  

"All _right_ ," the Grey Man growled. "I said I wouldn't kill you but if you punch me again, kid, I _will_ send you back to your father with broken bones." 

Matthew was still crying, but there was now some anger behind it as well. And fear. The fear was what the Grey Man wanted to see. Then Matthew took him by surprise yet again, whispering, "Who are you? ...Did you kill my brother?" 

"Did your father ever tell you where the Greywaren is?" the Grey Man countered.  

"I don't know what that is," Matthew said, and the Grey Man believed him. 

The Grey Man took the gun back out. Greenmantle had told him to rough the kid up a bit, to make sure that Niall Lynch knew they were serious. The Grey Man did not enjoy hurting children. He had especially not enjoyed killing Declan Lynch.  

But morals had no place in his work. 

He pointed the gun at Matthew Lynch's forehead. "Tell your father about this," he said, then moved the gun a few inches to the side and fired it into the wood just next to Matthew's head. The silencer made an almost comical _pew_ in the muzzy afternoon. The bullet splintered harmlessly into wood. 

Matthew Lynch sank to the ground, hugging himself and letting out a ragged, frightened sob. 

The Grey Man put the gun away, turned, and went to walk back to where his car was parked. 

*** 

After Gansey had finished talking to Malory on the phone, Ronan took everyone outside to show them some of the animals. Blue didn't know all that much about farms, but the Barns seemed like a pretty big one to her. Ronan said that his father did hire people to come help out, it would be impossible otherwise, but the family did a lot of the work themselves.  

They tramped together across one of the sprawling pastures to where a group of cows were grazing. Noah was the most delighted by this, petting one of the cows on the nose then laying his head against her side.  

"He's found a kindred spirit," Ronan said, rolling his eyes.  

"Don't patronize us," Noah said, eyes closed as he continued to stroke the cow's flank.  

The early evening peace was suddenly shattered by the opening bars of _Shipping Up to Boston_ blasting from the vicinity of Ronan's pocket. Everyone turned to look at him and he grinned. "That’s my dad." 

"Your dad likes the Dropkick Murphys?" Gansey asked skeptically. 

Ronan's grin widened. "No he fucking hates that song, that's why it's his ringtone." He flicked his thumb across the phone's screen and held it to his ear. "Yeah what?" 

Blue shook her head and reached out to scratch "Noah's" cow behind one ear. It took only a second before she realized something was wrong; Ronan had gone very, very quiet. When she looked over she saw his face had gone pale, lips parted a little.  

"Okay," he said quietly into the phone. "Is he—okay. Yeah."  

The others were staring as well, and when Ronan returned the phone to his pocket Adam reached out to touch his arm. "Is everything okay?" Adam asked.  

"You guys have to go," Ronan said lowly, looking at his feet. "Sorry. Something happened." 

Gansey was the first to guess. "Oh god—Matthew?" 

"I'll tell you later," Ronan said, still not looking at any of them. "Dad's going to get him but he said you guys can't stay." 

Blue nodded, reaching out to tug Noah away from the cow. She looked at Ronan, wondering if she should say something, but he had his hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched in a clear indication that he wouldn't want to hear it. Instead she ducked her head as they all started silently back to the house. 


	4. Chapter 4

Ronan waited for his father and Matthew on the front steps of the house. Gansey and the others had gone, and since it was forty minutes round trip to Henrietta at best, that meant Ronan was stuck waiting alone with his thoughts. His thoughts and Chainsaw, but she wasn't much help, perched nearby on the porch railing. Ronan didn't know where his mother was, inside probably.  

When Niall called he had already been in the car. Whatever had happened to Matthew—all Niall said was "something's happened to your brother"—he was most likely alive and not in the hospital or Niall would have sounded more frantic than angry. Ronan chewed on his leather bracelets, staring at the place where the driveway vanished into the trees as though he could will his father's grey BMW to appear around the bend. 

_I should have gone to get him. I should have just said I would get him,_ Ronan thought, like that somehow would have prevented Matthew from getting hurt, even though logically Ronan knew it wouldn't. It was only four and he wouldn't have gone to pick him up yet anyway.  

Guilt was a funny, insidious thing. It was like a trickle of water through a faulty dam wall, first there was a little, then all at once everything would come pouring out. Ronan hated it. He reacted instead of thinking because if he thought too much one minute it would be fretting over taking the trash out and the next it would be blaming himself for not waking up sooner, for not going out to the driveway sooner because maybe Declan would've still been— 

"Fuck," Ronan hissed, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead. "Fuck. Stop." 

*** 

Half an hour later there was the sound of tires crunching over gravel and Niall Lynch's car finally appeared around the bend, coming to a stop in the parking area by the house. Ronan jumped to his feet and was at the passenger's side door before Matthew even had a chance to get out. Behind him the front door opened and Aurora hurried out as well. 

Matthew was all right. He looked pale and shaken, and his eyes were red but Ronan's quick initial scan of his little brother showed no terrible outward injuries; no broken bones, no horrific cuts, not even a black eye. Matthew immediately grabbed Ronan, pulling him into a fierce hug that Ronan did not resist.  

"I'm okay," Matthew mumbled into Ronan's shoulder, but he didn't sound okay. Now that Ronan was sure of the lack of any major damage, he noticed that Matthew was shaking, and his skin felt clammy.  

Aurora's arms encircled both boys a moment later and she hugged them just as tightly. They stood like that for a minute before Niall cleared his throat and, reluctantly, the boys parted and all four of them headed inside the house. 

In the living room Niall pointed at the couch. "Sit." 

Ronan and Matthew sat. Aurora hovered nearby. Niall stood across from the boys, just on the other side of the coffee table. He brought one hand up to rub his forehead, eyes closed for a moment. 

"Should we tell the police?" Aurora asked quietly.  

"We can't," Niall said. He lowered his hand and looked at her pointedly.  

Aurora frowned. "You think it's..." 

"Ay. I do." Niall turned to his sons. "Right. New rules in effect: If either of you are somewhere that isn't the farm or school, you are to let me know where you are and who you're with. I mean _regular_ updates. Matthew, you're not to be out by yourself, ever. You tell your friends they have to wait with you until someone comes to get you. And Ronan," he rounded on his older son and his eyes got just a little harder and colder. "What happened today wasn't your fault, but from this minute forward if I ask you to do something, you fucking do it without arguing. I'm not tryin' to be a dictator here, but this is for your own safety." 

Ronan closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch, letting out a loud puff of air. An angry, helpless feeling was building inside him as he felt his freedom slipping away.  

"Ronan." 

"Sure. Whatever." Ronan opened his eyes and saw his father still staring at him. "What? I said I'd fucking do it!" 

"Ronan Lynch you speak to me or your mother that way one more time and you're not setting foot off this bloody farm, you hear?!" Niall snapped.  

"What?!" Ronan poised, muscles tense like he was ready to vault off the couch. "What the hell, you _just_ swore at me!"  

Aurora intervened then, reaching out to put her hand on her husband's arm. "Niall," she said, rubbing his arm until he turned from Ronan and looked at her. Aurora murmured something to him too quiet for either of their sons to hear.  Finally she drew back. "All right?" 

"All right," Niall said. He sighed, then gestured, "Matthew, go with your mother. We'll be in in a moment." 

Ronan turned to give Matthew a pleading look, but Matthew got up and followed Aurora out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. 

Niall moved around to sit on the edge of the coffee table then so he was facing Ronan. He leaned forward. "What's the matter with you, ay?" he asked, and his voice was considerably gentler than it had been a minute ago. "Ronan? Look at me." He reached out to touch his son's arm. "You're being horrid to me and your mother. What's going on?" 

"I don't know, _Dad_ ," Ronan said. "What _is_ going on? You keep telling us all these rules but you don't say why. I think I'm allowed to be a little pissed off. Why are you so paranoid? What happened to Matthew? Does this—does this have to do with Declan?" 

Niall's mouth became a thin, hard line, the way it did whenever someone mentioned his dead son. He reached up, looking away from Ronan for a minute as he rubbed the underside of his jaw with one hand. "You know, I left Belfast because I was sick and tired of bein' afraid every time I stepped out my door. Now I'm thinking, we'd be better off back there. Christ...all I wanted was to keep my family safe." 

"From _what_?" Ronan pressed.  

"Someone wants something from me," Niall said, looking at him finally. "Something I can't give him no matter how many times he threatens me." 

Ronan stared at him. He tried to imagine the kind of man that would make Niall Lynch afraid. It was, he guessed, the same kind of man who would order the death of a teenage boy. A terrible kind of man. The only kind of man who could look at someone like Matthew Lynch and contemplate hurting him.  

Leaning forward, Ronan said lowly, "Dad...dream something. We could both—" 

" _No_." Niall's eyes blazed for a moment. "This isn't something we could just dream a solution to and besides this family is done with that curse of an ability." 

"It's not a curse, Dad," Ronan said. He watched his father hesitantly, trying to gauge his reaction. "It's not just bad...I mean, not that I've..." But he trailed off and wet his lips. 

The fire in Niall's gaze cooled, leaving behind a hard frown. "Ronan you know why we're not to dream like that." He leaned forward and said quietly, "I know you didn't try to kill yourself a year ago. I know that's not what really happened. And that is one of _many_ reasons why we can't use our ability." 

"Dad..." 

"No, this isn't up for discussion," Niall said. He reached out and put one of his broad, rough hands against Ronan's cheek for a moment. "I'll figure something out. It's not your place to fix this, it's mine, yeah?" 

Ronan wanted to tell him that no it wasn't, that he could help, that together they could figure out some way to set things right. But the look Niall was giving him brooked no argument, so Ronan simply nodded. 

"Good lad," Niall said, letting his hand fall. "Now come on, let's go have dinner." 

As Ronan stood to follow him, he found his mind drifting to Gansey briefly, and then to Glendower. He thought about the favor that the sleeping king was supposed to grant them for waking him. Ronan knew now what he would ask for. 

*** 

That night, Ronan fell asleep with his father's words in his mind: _This family is done with that curse of an ability_. 

_But it's not a curse_ , Ronan thought as he drifted into the half dream state of partial sleep. _It's not a curse. It's a tool_. 

A tool. 

A tool to help Gansey find Glendower. A tool to make his family safe without his father having to do anything drastic. Ronan needed a tool. 

That night Ronan fell asleep and dreamed of trees. Massive old trees that spoke his name over and over again, and then whispered: _Ante te, pater tuus. Ronan Lynch, tu est Greywaren. Iam tu est Greywaren._  

_I don't know what Greywaren means,_ Ronan thought. _Please, I just need something to help..._  

"Ronan," this voice was not from the trees, it was from a little girl peering at Ronan from between two of the trunks.  

Ronan looked at her. "Orphan girl." 

" _Audi patrem tuus, Ronan_." 

"No," Ronan said, scowling. "I'm done listening to him. My dad is wrong, we need to use this to help or whoever's trying to hurt us will just...All I need is a tool." 

Orphan Girl looked at him sadly, then she held out her arms. There was something in her hands, a box-shaped object. She walked forward and passed it to Ronan. He ran his fingers over the strange knobs and pulls and lettered tiles.  

"Thanks," Ronan said, though he didn't know how this would help. 

When he woke up, he could still feel the weight of the strange object in his hands. 

*** 

Morning found Niall, Ronan, and Matthew in the small barn that Niall had converted into a home gym. He had paved over the floor and installed lights and rubber mats, and over the years filled it with equipment. It was also where they practiced boxing, which was something Niall had decided his sons needed a refresher in, though Ronan was wondering why he thought said refresher had to happen first thing after breakfast. 

"Ronan," Niall said with a sigh, dropping out of his stance. "You're not listening. You keep leavin' yourself open—stop chasing the punch and try to block me."  

Defense was not Ronan's strong suit. He started to lower his arms but Niall made a sharp sound and pointed at him, so he kept them up. Matthew cheered some sort of vague encouragement from where he sat on a weight bench nearby. Niall rolled his shoulders, then took his stance once more. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at Ronan.  

Ronan grinned. "C'mon, old man, hit me."  

"Oh-ho!" Niall laughed. "Careful, lad..."  

One jab, blocked. Another, blocked. Left-hook...Ronan let out a grunt and stumbled back.  

Ronan rubbed his jaw. All his smack talk was bravado; he knew better than anyone that even in his forties Niall Lynch could best just about anyone in a fight. As they took a minute to catch their breath Ronan asked, "Gansey wants to meet up for lunch, is that ok?" 

"Don't get distracted," Niall said. "Focus on what we're doing." 

Sighing, Ronan closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He became aware of every part of his body; his feet, just so, his arms ready, each breath filling his lungs...and nothing else. Nothing. He opened his eyes and looked at his father.   

One jab, blocked. Another, blocked. Left-hook, blocked, countered...   

Ronan's gloved fist connected with Niall's jaw.  

"Jaysus-!" Niall let out a bark that was half surprised exclamation, half laugh. He held up his hand, opening and closing his mouth for a minute in an exaggerated sort of way.   

"Careful, lad," Ronan said in a bad imitation of his father's accent.  

Niall laughed again. "You're good, Ronan, but don't get cocky." Then he waved his hand before using his teeth to undo the velcro of his gloves. "Alright, enough for today. What was that about meeting Gansey for lunch?" 

"Gansey, Parrish, Noah, and Sargent," Ronan said. "In town. I can go right? It's important." 

"You're not planning on spending the day chasing after Gansey's king, are ya?" Niall asked as he sat down on the bench next to Matthew. "I'd rather not have you running all over just yet." 

Ronan closed his eyes and sighed, then shook his head. He walked over and held his own gloved hands out so his father could undo the velcro for him. "No it's just lunch and maybe hanging out at Monmouth for a bit." 

"Alright, but remember what I said last night; I want regular updates. That means a text when you get there and when you leave the restaurant and when you're on your way home." 

" _Jesus_ , Dad." 

"Ronan." Niall looked at him sharply. "We just talked about this." 

There was a smart retort on the tip of Ronan's tongue, but he swallowed it. "Fine." 

Niall stood and put his hands on Ronan's shoulders. "I know, it's torture to humor your poor old father isn't it." 

Ronan rolled his eyes but he nodded and said earnestly, "Yeah, Dad, okay." 

"Thank you." Niall patted the top of his head. "Now go on, wash up then go have fun. Say hi to your friends for me." 

*** 

Niall waited until Ronan was gone to meet up with his friends and Matthew was playing video games and Aurora was in the living room reading before he slipped out the back door of the house.  Across the yard,  at the edge of the forest, resting under the overhanging boughs of an old oak tree was a single headstone, still new looking after two years. Niall approached it and then knelt in the grass before reaching out to brush non-existent dirt from the chiseled letters that spelled out Declan Lynch's name. 

This was one of the few times that Niall allowed himself to be silent and still. He was a man who liked to keep busy, not because he had many moral objection to idleness, but rather because he did not like to be alone with his own thoughts. Thoughts caused problems.   

But he felt he owed this, a few moments of peace and silence, to Declan. 

A leaf fell and landed on top of the headstone. Niall reached out and brushed it away. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, running his finger along the stone, tracing its edge. "God, but I've done some terrible things and it's not fair that you and your brothers should pay for them."  

He let his head hang forward, hand still resting on the gravestone.   

The image that came to Niall's mind was of Declan at three or four years old, sitting on the front steps of the house when Niall pulled into the driveway. And as Niall had gotten out of the car, Declan, laughing, had run down to meet him, wrapping his tiny arms around Niall’s legs.  

And then back to the day Declan was born and Niall had cradled his tiny form and looked down at that new face, saying to Aurora, “I wonder what sort of man he will be someday.”  

“God,” Niall said aloud, lifting his head. He hadn't realized that he had tears on his cheeks until a faint breeze cooled his skin. “God, I am so sorry. I am so sorry. It shouldn't have been you.”  

He pressed one hand to his mouth then, closing his eyes again and shaking his head. For a moment, all Niall felt was utter, overwhelming helplessness and despair. He wanted to go back, to start over, but here he was with one son in the ground and the other two in danger and him not knowing if he could save them.  

A hand rested lightly on his back, and then Aurora breathed, “Oh, my love…”  

Niall turned to her as she knelt beside him, not caring that she saw him with tears in his eyes. Aurora’s gentle face was filled with nothing but soft, worried adoration. She reached up, brushing his hair back. Niall grasped her hand, holding it to his cheek. “I can't fix this,” he said, bitterly. “I can't bring him back. Of all the things I can do and all the things I can create, I killed our son and I can't bring him back.”  

“You didn't kill him,” Aurora said. She would never blame Niall for Declan's death, he knew that much. She was as incapable of that as she was of willing her heart to stop beating. “Niall, you didn't kill him.”  

Niall let go of her hand. He leaned into his wife, closing his eyes and letting his head rest on her shoulder. Aurora smelled of summer, of flowers, of sun warmed grass and the first spring rain. She wrapped her arms around him, her cheek against the top of his head.   

Minutes passed in silence.   

When Niall sat up straight finally, his eyes were dry. When Niall spoke finally, his voice was cold and heavy. “I have to kill Colin Greenmantle.”  

"Niall..." Aurora's brow furrowed a little. "That won't...that won't bring Declan back."  

"I know," Niall said. "But Greenmantle will never go down for what he did. We could hire the best lawyers in the world and he will always be airtight, he will never be punished for murdering our son. If I don't kill him, then Matthew, and Ronan, and you will all be taken from me. And that would be worse than if he killed me."  

"But what will we do if we lose you too?" Aurora asked. "We know how dangerous he is. How many connections he has. Niall, if you die trying to kill him—"  

"And if he dies too it won't matter," Niall said. But that was a lie, and they both knew it. Aurora wouldn’t want to exist without him, Niall knew Aurora _couldn't_ exist without him, not unless Ronan…  

"And what if he doesn't?" Aurora's voice had not changed in the slightest, but somehow there was a hardness behind her words now. "Think, my love. What if you die and you fail to kill him?"  

Niall gazed at her. Slowly he leaned in to press a kiss to her lips and murmur, "Then I'll be sure I don't fail."  

***  

_Dad, heading over to Monmouth for a bit. I'll be back around two thirty._  

***  

After lunch Niall brought a basket of laundry up from the basement. Most of it was Ronan's things, so after he folded the sheets and put them in the linen cupboard, Niall took the rest down the hall to his son's room to dump unceremoniously on the bed. (Ronan was, technically, supposed to _wash_ his own laundry too, but sometimes his mother just happened to forget that.) 

As he turned to leave, Niall’s gaze fell on Ronan’s nightstand. He did a double take, then had to touch the silver Celtic cross that hung around his neck to make sure it was still there because the one lying atop a car magazine on Ronan's nightstand was perfectly identical to his own.  

Frowning, Niall slipped his off over his head then grabbed Ronan's to hold them up next to one another. The same leather strap. The same cross. The same gouge in the silver from the time Niall had to yank it out from behind the radiator.  

He put his back on and looked around, but nothing in the cluttered-but-not-dirty bedroom seemed strange or out of the ordinary. Then, on a hunch, Niall got down on his hands and his knees, peering under the bed. Next to a forgotten pair of shoes and a skateboard was a cardboard box. Niall grabbed it and pulled it out, wondering if it was terrible of him to hope the thing was just full of porn magazines.  

It was not.  

The box, which had the Amazon logo splashed across one side and had originally been full of books now held a strange collection of items. Niall grabbed one at random. It was a deck of cards, but as he flipped through them he found that they were all blank. He tossed it aside and picked up a tiny stuffed rabbit that would fit in the palm of his hand—it began to kick as soon as he touched it. Next Niall grabbed a pen, and when he scribbled randomly on a scrap of paper on the floor it would only write out the final lines of T.S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men": 

_This is the way the world ends_  

_This is the way the world ends_  

_This is the way the world ends_  

_Not with a bang but a whimper._  

Niall cursed. He tossed the items back into the box and put the box in the laundry basket to take with him. Giving the room one last cursory glance, his gaze settled on the birdcage sitting on a small table by the window, the birdcage that was usually home to Ronan's pet raven. The raven that he claimed to have found abandoned in one of the fields. 

"God, Ronan," Niall said aloud to the empty room. "What the hell have you done." 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Ronan Lynch was not having a particularly good afternoon. This was not the usual outcome of going into town to have lunch with his friends, but so far his day was just not shaping up to be what he expected.  

Gathered around one of the back tables at Nino's were Gansey, Noah, Adam, and himself. Blue stood between Gansey and Adam's chairs, she was supposed to be working but she was also taking every opportunity to come over and check in on their progress with the strange puzzle box that Ronan had dreamed up. The puzzle box sat in the middle of the table, surrounded by a mess of dictionaries and papers and half-finished slices of pizza. 

Gansey was going on a tangent about the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis of linguistic relativity. Noah looked like he was listening, but he was also tying the wrapper from everyone's straws into knots. Adam had his chin resting in one hand and was also looking in Gansey's direction, his other hand resting on the table. Next to it was Blue's hand, as she was leaning forward to get a better look at the puzzle box. 

Ronan watched Adam's hand creep closer to Blue's. Blue didn't seem to notice, even when Adam glanced up at her face. She did notice when their finger touched. Ronan's head hurt. He slouched lower in his seat. 

Blue's attention was grabbed then by the bell at the front of the restaurant chiming. She quietly excused herself. 

"Are you sure you don't know what this other language is?" Gansey asked Ronan, turning the more incomprehensible side of the puzzle box towards him as though Ronan might have forgotten what they were talking about. 

"Yes, Gansey I—ah, fuck." When Ronan stiffened in his chair, the others turned to see what he was looking at and they all had similar reactions. 

Joseph Kavinsky was walking towards them. "Sidling" might have been a better word; Kavinsky always managed to look as absolutely careless as possible whenever he was walking somewhere. His gaze locked on Ronan's, lips curling back into a grin.  

"Lynch," he said. "You bougie Irish bastard. Daddy finally let you off the farm?" 

"Jersey shore piece of trash motherfucker," Ronan hissed back. "What do you want?" 

Kavinsky, Ronan had decided, was like a mosquito. He always seemed to be there when you didn't want him. At least, he always seemed to be around Ronan whenever he didn't want him—which was always. _Why_ Kavinsky had been dogging his steps, Ronan had no idea. He didn't do drugs, he didn't run in the same circle as Kavinsky or his pack...  

Maybe it was just that Kavinsky could tell that Ronan was starting to chafe at the restraints his father had on him. To him, Kavinsky stood for every act of rebellion a boy their age could engage in. 

Whatever the reason, Ronan was not in the mood to deal with it today. "What?" he said again. 

"I saw Dick's P.O.S. parked out front, remembered I had something for you." Kavinsky dropped a tangled pile of leather cords in front of Ronan on the table.  

Ronan plucked up the cluster and eyed it, frowning a little when he realized they were identical to the bracelets he always wore. "Thanks, it's beautiful. Goes with everything," he said dryly.  

"Like your mom," Kavinsky said, smirk widening. 

"Say something else about my mom," Ronan hissed. This was not what he needed. This was _not_ what he needed. Why was everything getting under his skin today? 

"Ooh, touched a nerve there," Kavinsky said. "Look, princess, when you're ready to stop being such a momma's boy, come talk to me. In the meantime, ladies, it's been fun but I've gotta dash, people to do, places to see. Have fun with your book club." Turning, he walked back out of the restaurant.  

Ronan picked at the bracelets; they really were identical to his own, down to the finest detail. Considering that he had gotten his from a leatherworker's booth at a fair in New York he'd gone to with his family, this was a strange impossibility. He looked up and found the others staring at him. "What?" 

"Why did Joseph Kavinsky just give you a present?" Blue asked, her expression one of deeply unsettled bemusement.  

"How the hell should I know?" Ronan snapped.  

"Ronan Lynch," Blue said, folding her arms. "What did I _just_ say about you talking to me like that?" 

Ronan snorted. "Jesus. I've already got one set of parents I don't need another." That statement was directed at both Blue and Gansey, as they wore similarly stern expressions. 

Except now Gansey's slackened a little. "Ronan, did something happen? Is that why you're being more of an asshole than usual?" 

"Let's see, my brother almost got kidnapped and now my dad's gotten even more paranoid than he usually is, so you tell me." Ronan shifted in his seat, letting out a puff of air. Then, quieter, he said, "Remember how I said my dad would be pissed if he found out I was dreaming stuff?" 

The others nodded, though Gansey had a skeptical eyebrow raised, clearly not pleased with the abrupt subject change. 

"He can do it too. This dreaming shit." Ronan looked up at them finally. "Except he told me I'm not allowed to. I think it has something to do with why my brother was murdered." 

That statement fell like a stone. Gansey rubbed his lower lip. "Christ," he murmured. " _How_?" 

"I don't know," Ronan said. "All my dad's told me is that someone wants something from him and that he's dealing with it. But we're literally _magic_ , I don't know why the hell we aren't using our ability to stop this asshole who keeps threatening us." 

"Has it ever occurred to you, Ronan, that maybe your dad knows what he's talking about?" Gansey asked. "And that you should consider listening to him?" 

Ronan curled his lip. "I've _been_ listening to my dad. It's not getting me anywhere." 

"You got a nine-hundred dollar tattoo and you haven't stopped dreaming, I don't see how that's—" 

"I'm not in the mood for this shit, Gansey," Ronan said. "Can we get back to this stupid dictionary box?" 

Gansey opened his mouth to say something, but Adam nudged him, so he simply nodded and picked up one of the books off the table. 

*** 

When Ronan got home later that afternoon he was relieved to discover that his father was out in one of the far fields, which gave Ronan time to change into work clothes and slip back outside to do his own chores without having to confront Niall. For several hours Ronan was able to work in peace—finishing repairs, seeing to the animals who were his responsibility, checking on some things that were technically Matthew's job but he often forgot about. 

Three hours or so had passed before Ronan actually saw his father, as they were both bringing tools back to one of the sheds near the house.  

Niall gave his son an odd look. "I'd like to talk to you," he said. "After dinner." 

"About what?" Ronan asked. 

"Just some things," Niall said, shrugging before he turned and strode back out. 

*** 

Ronan should have known something was wrong when after dinner his mother and brother made themselves scarce. Really, he should have known something was wrong all day, but there was definitely something about the way his father told him to wait at the kitchen table after everything had been cleared away that put him even more on edge.  

Niall returned with a cardboard box. Before Ronan had time to ask him how he'd gotten it, Niall stepped up next to him and turned the box over, dumping it's contents out over the table: pens and papers and little nonsense toys and bits of metal and marbles rolled out. A pair of dice with impossibly intricate portraits of US presidents on their sides tumbled across the table, landing with Washington and Obama face up. 

Ronan looked up at his father. Niall folded his arms over his chest and looked back down at him. After a minute he said, "Well?" 

"What?" Ronan asked, shrugging. 

"I'm no fool, Ronan, I know what this all is," Niall was clearly working hard to keep his voice calm. "You've been dreaming. D'ya not understand what I mean when I say it's too _fucking_ dangerous?" 

"No, I don't actually," Ronan said. Annoyance bit into his voice, but he wasn't yelling, not yet.  

Niall closed one hand around Ronan's wrist, holding his son's arm out. In the dim light of the kitchen, criss-crossing scars were just barely visible against Ronan's skin. "This?" Niall said. He let go and tugged the collar of his own shirt down just enough to show the top of a long scar that ran over his collarbone and down his chest. "And this? You think this really was from a bloody farming accident? You've got plenty of reason right there in front of your eyes but you're not seein' it!" 

When his father got agitated—not _just_ angry but angry and worried at the same time—his speech sped up and his Belfast accent (a little muddled after almost two decades in the US) returned with a vengeance, making it difficult at times for even Ronan to understand him. Other times, Ronan only _said_ he couldn't understand him, mostly to get under his father's skin. Right now however, Ronan was too irritated to even snap at his father to slow down, which was probably for the better. 

"That's not good enough," Ronan said. He looked his father in the eye and said, "You know why Declan died. Tell me." 

Niall fell silent. He put both hands on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, leaning heavily against it. "There's a lot of money in the magical artifacts trade," he said lowly. "And here I am with the ability to make whatever the hell I want. But you know me, I've got a lot of vices and running my mouth is one of them. I told someone about something that I couldn't give him, but now he wants it. I thought I was bigger than him, so I laughed in his face and told him to fuck off." He looked up at Ronan then. "And then he had my oldest son killed." 

Ronan stared at him. An unpleasant melange of feelings was congealing in the pit of his stomach. He shifted. "What does he think you have?" 

"An object that lets people take things out of their dreams." Niall rubbed the back of his neck.  

"So fucking make one." 

"I _can't_ ," Niall said. "Christ. You don't think I've tried? Apparently making something to give someone else our power is one of the things we can't do." 

Ronan tipped his head back, swallowing down past the lump in his throat. Then before he could stop himself, he said in a startlingly scathing tone, "So what I'm hearing is if I just keep my mouth shut, I'll be fine." 

His father said nothing. In fact, he was so quiet that Ronan looked back over at him, expecting to see annoyance or anger or...anything besides what he actually was seeing. 

Ronan had only seen his father cry twice in his life, and that had been the day Declan died and again at his funeral. Niall Lynch just wasn't the type of person to cry. He wasn't crying now, but his eyes were noticeably watery, and his jaw clenched. He shook his head, then started gathering up Ronan's dream objects and putting them back into the cardboard box.  

"I'm taking these out to the incinerator," he said, not looking up at Ronan. "You can keep your bloody raven." 

Ronan decided to overlook the slightly horrific implication that under different circumstances his father might have destroyed Chainsaw as well. Instead, feeling his frustration melting into guilt, Ronan ducked his chin and said, "Dad it wasn't your fault." 

"I'm done talkin' about this," Niall muttered. He picked up the box and stepped into the back hall. A moment later Ronan heard the back door slam. 

Ronan covered his face and let out a frustrated groan. He sat there, even when he heard Chainsaw flap over and land on the table. After a minute he lowered his hands, then held his arm out to her. "Come on, bird. Lets get out of here." 

With Chainsaw on his shoulder Ronan got up, grabbed his car keys from the counter and headed to the from door. He had just closed his hand around the knob when he heard his mother call from the living room, "Ronan where are you going?" 

"Gansey's," he said, looking over his shoulder at her. "I can't be here right now." And with that he left. 

*** 

It was almost dark when he reached Henrietta. The sky was that inky blue shade of summer nights, turning the world beneath it into an eerie dreamscape of its daytime self. Henrietta wasn't exactly known for its nightlife either, especially not during the summer. The streets were deserted, storefronts dark.  

As Ronan sat at a stop light drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and contemplating the fact that there was absolutely no traffic coming in the opposite direction, another car pulled up beside his; a white Mitsubishi evo. The passenger side window rolled down and someone shouted, "Twice in one day, Lynch, isn't this a happy coincidence?" 

Ronan responded with his middle finger. "Fuck off, Kavinsky. I'm not in the mood." 

Someone else snickered, and when Ronan glanced over he could see Prokopenko sitting in the passenger seat. Kavinsky leaned around him. The light turned green, but neither car moved.  

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" Kavinsky asked. "What are you doing in town?" 

"What do you think?" Ronan bit back. 

Kavinsky swung his gaze out in front of them. "I think there's an open stretch of road and you need to blow off some steam. Unless you're too worried about getting in trouble with Daddy. Is it true he had to bail you out of jail last month? Nah suppose you would've gotten kicked out if that happened." 

The light turned yellow.  

"What do you want?" Ronan said, contemplating just rolling his window up and ignoring them. 

Red light outlined Kavinsky's gaunt face and made his grin look positively nightmareish. "Beat me to the athletic field and find out, Princess." 

"Last time you raced me you lost, man," Ronan said. Last time they had raced he also ended up with a speeding ticket and a lecture from both his father and the sheriff, but he wasn’t about to let Kavinsky know about that. 

"Put some upgrades on my ride since then," Kavinsky said. "You'll be surprised." 

Ronan sat back and rested his foot against the gas pedal. In the next car he heard Kavinsky let out a whoop before cranking up his music so loud it felt like both cars were vibrating. 

The light turned green.  

For a brief moment Ronan's mind went blank; there was only the wind in his face, the speedometer needle, the car feeling electric and alive under his touch as both it and Kavinsky's Mitsubishi roared down the stretch of road.  

It was freeing. It was glorious. 

And then before Ronan even realized he had been overtaken he was looking at the slanting rectangular tail lights of the Evo. Impossibly Kavinsky was pulling away from him. Ronan swore. Kavinsky stuck one hand out his window, flipping Ronan off before roaring off into the night.  

Ronan slowed, then pulled over to the side of the road next to the athletic field. He was breathing heavily, hands gripping the wheel, knuckles white.  

He realized then that he didn't actually want to go to Gansey's. 

*** 

Adam Parrish was not having a particularly good night.  

Lunch had been a brief respite in an otherwise stressful day. His four hour shift at the factory had somehow turned into a six and a half hour shift and he hadn't brought dinner with him, which meant that getting back to St. Agnes' around 8:30 even the prospect of stale bread, peanut butter, and a few last spoonfuls of applesauce seemed appealing. He needed to go grocery shopping, but after paying this month's rent his current balance of funds had gone from 'okay' to 'barely feasable.' And then there was the letter from Aglionby waiting in his mailbox, the letter that still lay unopened on his bookshelf. 

He had just finished a short, unsatisfying shower when someone knocked on the door. For a long moment Adam considered not answering, but his manners got the better of him. He walked over and opened it, then felt a surprising flutter of relief when he saw who it was. "Oh, hey Ronan." 

"Parrish." Ronan stepped past him into the room. "What's going on." 

"Nothing," Adam closed the door. "What're you doing in town?" 

The strangest thing about seeing Ronan in his room was how it _wasn't_ strange. Whether Ronan was in the main chapel of St. Agnes', or in the administrative offices, or up here in the little apartment he looked like he belonged. Adam supposed that had to do with the fact that the Lynches had, allegedly, been part of the church since before Ronan was born. One of these days, he thought, he would get around to figuring out how Ronan reconciled a fairly faithful level of Catholicism with literally everything else that defined who he was. 

"I had to get out of the house," Ronan said, puffing out a breath of air. 

Adam frowned. "Did you and your dad fight or something?" 

"Or something." Ronan sat down on Adam's bed and began unlacing his boots. "You don't care if I hang out do you?" 

"No, that’s fine." Adam looked around, then sat down on the rickety desk chair. “What did you guys fight about? Or 'something' about.” 

Ronan made a face, rubbing his nose. "Magic. The death of my brother. Normal family shit." 

Adam had to stop himself from thinking 'I _wish_ that's all I fought with my dad about.' Instead he picked at a scab on his arm and said offhandedly, "Kinda surprised you're here and not at Gansey's." He hoped it didn't come out sounding resentful; honestly he felt proud that Ronan had come there; it meant he thought that Adam was the better person to be around in his current state of being. 

"I needed someone who would actually be on my side," Ronan said. He made another face. 

"I think you're allowed to be upset," Adam said, and could tell that was the correct response.  

Ronan bobbed his head. Then he patted the spot next to him. “Here we can watch Netflix on my phone or something.” 

Adam was surprised by the invitation for a second, then he moved to sit next to Ronan on the mattress. He noted that as usual the other boy smelled—not unpleasantly—of earth and air and trees and something like leather though it was too hot lately for Ronan to be wearing his jacket. Chainsaw hopped up to Adam’s desk, waddling over to examine the tin can of pencils there. 

Ronan pulled up some show on his phone, though the minute it started Adam felt a wave of exhaustion overtake him. He tried to look like he was casually settling back against the wall, but five minutes later as his eyes dropped shut his last thought was that Ronan had to realize he was falling asleep. 

Adam did not know how long he slept. It couldn't have been too long. He swam back to consciousness and was at first puzzled by the odd smell that wafted over to him. Chinese food? He opened his eyes. It _was_ Chinese food. Ronan was sitting at the end of the mattress now, a small takeout container in one hand, and more of the little white boxes in a plastic bag on the floor next to him. 

“What the hell, Lynch,” Adam said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Did you order food while I was asleep?” 

“No, the food fairies came and left it.” Ronan rolled his eyes. “Yes I ordered food and you'd better fucking eat some because I ordered way too much.” 

Adam was about to protest but when he sat up his stomach gave an audible growl. Sighing, he reached for one of the containers. “You didn't have to do this,” he muttered. 

“Whatever.” Ronan shoved a forkful of noodles into his mouth, watching Adam. Chainsaw had migrated to his shoulder, eyeing the food hopefully until Ronan gave her a baby corn and she took it to the other corner of the room. “Did you have a nice nap?” Ronan asked. 

“I shouldn't have fallen asleep,” Adam said, glancing at his watch. It was late. He ate a few bites of chicken then asked, “Are you, um, planning on just staying here all night?” 

Chewing another mouthful of food, Ronan merely raised an eyebrow, giving him one of those impenetrable Ronan Lynch stares. Adam looked back down at his food and didn't ask again. They ate in silence for a while until both were too full. After that they watched another episode on Ronan's phone, then, yawning, Adam said they should probably get some actual sleep. He at least had to work the next morning. 

Feeling strangely self-conscious, Adam stepped into the bathroom to change into pajamas under the guise of also having to brush his teeth. When he came back he found that Ronan had stripped down to just his tank top and boxers. Neither of them said anything as Adam switched off the light and went to stretch out on the bed, though he let out a breath of laughter when he realized Ronan was still next to him. “Are you just…?” 

“I would if you'd scooch your ass, Parrish,” he muttered. 

Adam scooted over and Ronan lay down next to him. Neither said anything, and Adam could hear Ronan's breath evening out after a few minutes. His last thought before falling asleep himself was simply _'This is ridiculous.'_   

 


	6. Chapter 6

When Blue knocked on Adam's door early Sunday morning, the last thing she was expecting was for Ronan Lynch to answer. And when he did, all she could do was stand there and stare at him like he had something crawling out of his ears.  

"Maggot? What are you doing here?" he asked, scowling, because that's what Ronan did when he was confused. 

"Me?" Blue said. "What are _you_ doing here? It's seven-thirty a.m. on a Sunday." 

Ronan leaned against the door frame, his lip curling a little. There was a strange level of hostility about him that baffled Blue even further; obviously Ronan could be grating at times, rude at others, but the way he was looking at her now made her feel a bit like she'd just stepped into an overprotective doberman's territory.  

Then from back in the room Adam's voice called, "Ronan just let her in. Jesus, don't be an asshole." 

"I'm only messing with her," Ronan said, his scowl turning into a knife-like smirk. He reached out and gave Blue's hair a forceful ruffle. 

Huffing, Blue slapped his arm away and then tried to squeeze past him, which resulted in a more friendly jostle between the two of them before she finally stepped into the room. Adam had just come out of the bathroom; he was wearing the clothes he usually wore to go work in the factory. Glancing around, Blue saw Ronan's boots in one corner of the room next to a bag of Chinese takeout containers.  

She raised her eyebrows. "You two have a sleepover?" 

"Is that all right?" Ronan asked, curling his lip at her. He went to sit on the end of Adam's mattress and pull his boots on. "I got in a fight with my dad." 

"Oh." Blue peered at him. There was that bristling glare again, one that only grew when she stepped closer to Adam. She turned to focus on him instead and ignored Ronan. "I was just riding my bike to the store to get some stuff for Mom, I thought I'd stop by and say hi before your shift started." 

"Gross," said Ronan. 

Adam also ignored Ronan. "Oh, ok. Um..." He offered Blue a slightly drowsy smile. "Cool." 

Ronan made a great show of getting to his feet, grabbing his phone and wallet off the desk and scooping up Chainsaw. There was a long moment when it looked like he wasn't actually going to leave, then he huffed and said, "Okay, I gotta go home to change for church." 

Blue tilted her head at him. "...You're going all the way back to the Barns just to turn around and come back here?" 

"My dad's already pissed as hell at me, Sargent, he might just lock me in the house for the rest of my life if I show up looking like this," Ronan said, gesturing at his jeans and black tank top. 

"Does God really care about what you wear?" Blue asked. She had meant the statement mostly as a joke, but the look she got in response was deeply unamused. 

Ronan huffed. "Hey I don't question why you look like you go clothes shopping in the _Project Runway_ reject bin." 

There was maybe about half a second where Blue considered yelling at him for being rude again, then her brain realized what he'd just said and she burst out laughing. "God, I think you need to workshop that one a bit.” 

"Whatever," Ronan said, though some of his inexplicable hostility had melted away. "I'm out of here. Don't have too much fun, kids." He caught Adam's eye for a second, then yanked the door open and stalked out. 

Adam was shaking his head when the door closed again. "Sorry about him," he said to Blue. "He's been in a weirder mood than usual lately." 

"It's all right," Blue said, and she did mean it. A good part of the time that was just how her and Ronan's friendship was: a lot of good-natured belligerence and gently thrown insults. Today felt different, somehow, and she wondered if it was just Ronan being grumpy after fighting with his father or something else. Fidgeting a little, she looked up at Adam and said, "So...anything new at work?" 

*** 

Ronan was grateful that his father didn't comment when he arrived home twenty minutes later and hurried upstairs to change into more church appropriate clothing before joining the rest of the family for a quick breakfast.  

On the way out of the house, however, Niall fell into step with Ronan and reached over, clasping his son's shoulder as he murmured, "Where'd you go last night?" 

"Adam's," Ronan said. "I was pissed off." 

His father sighed. "I know the last thing you want to hear is 'I'm just doing this because I care about you,' but that's the truth." 

"It's fine, Dad." Ronan shrugged and looked up at him. "Seriously." 

He could tell that his father didn't believe that for a second, but they were at the Niall's car by then and so he went around to the driver's side while Ronan got in back with Matthew.  

No one said anything on the ride into Henrietta. Ronan sat slouched in his seat, head tilted back and gaze fixed outside the window at the passing scenery. His mind wandered, obnoxiously, to Adam and Blue, and there back again was that tight feeling in his chest.  

 _You know what that is_ , said one part of his mind, and the other part responded with an unmistakable, _Fuck off._  

They stopped at a light. Ronan was still so lost in thought that he didn't notice another car had pulled up so that the driver's side window was in line with Ronan's window. Then, suddenly, he was looking at the smirking face of Joseph Kavinsky and all his fretting turned to pure annoyance.  

Kavinsky pantomimed rolling down a car window. Ronan did, though mostly so he could make a face at the other boy, who laughed. 

"Hey, Lynch, your mom's pretty hot did I ever tell you that?" 

Ronan responded with both middle fingers. "What do you want?" 

Kavinsky laughed. "To ask you out for dinner, princess, you free tonight?" 

"Man, fuck you." 

In the front seat of the car Niall turned around. " _Ronan_." 

The light turned green and Kavinsky laughed again as he pulled away from them. Ronan flopped back in his seat with a huff. 

"Who was that?" Aurora asked. 

"Wasn't that Joseph Kavinsky?" Matthew said, looking at his brother with a baffled expression. 

"Who's Joseph Kavinsky?" Niall asked. 

Ronan threw his hands in the air. "Jesus _fucking_ Christ. He's just some asshole from school who enjoys pissing me off, okay?" 

A moment of silence followed that, broken by Aurora's soft sigh. " _Please_ , Ronan. Language." 

"Sorry, Mom," Ronan murmured. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He rubbed his forehead then fished it out and looked at the screen: 

 _You're not my type anyway. But we should race again, next time you're not with Mommy and Daddy._  

Then a second one: 

 _Your mom_ is _pretty hot though. How'd she give birth to an ugly ass kid like you?_  

Today was going to be a hell of a day, Ronan could already tell. 

*** 

The Grey Man had spent his Sunday morning driving slowly around Henrietta in his abomination of a rental car, the passenger seat covered in a haphazard array of electronics. All bore displays or lights that blinked steadily as the Grey Man drove, but never once did the readings increase or decrease. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of that.  

Now, just after noon, he sat at the lunch counter of the local drugstore eating a tuna fish sandwich that had been given to him by a red-lipped waitress who looked just about as tired as the Grey Man felt. Currently she was finishing up a diatribe against the Henrietta Electric Power Company that had begun when the power fizzled out then back on again about five minutes ago. The Grey Man listened with a patient smile, and went back to his sandwich once she had finished.  

Another customer came into the store, causing the bell above the door to tinkle faintly. The Grey Man remained intent on his food.  

"Darla, how's it goin'?" This was a man's voice, with the unmistakable lilt of an Irish accent. 

The Grey Man looked up, gazing intently at the person who had just entered. This other man was tall and sharp featured, but handsome in a young-Gregory-Peck sort of way. His black hair was neatly styled, his eyes piercing, his clothes definitely Sunday-best and not everyday-shopping. His smile, aimed at the waitress, was wide and bright and just shy of flirtatious. 

The waitress smiled back. "Oh just fine, Mr. Lynch, and yourself?" 

Niall Lynch, larger than life and twice as dastardly. The Grey Man dabbed at his mouth with a paper napkin, watching Lynch and also _not_ watching him. Lynch walked past, heading for the back aisle of the store. He glanced at the Grey Man for a split second and nothing registered on his face. The Grey Man turned in his seat to continue watching him. 

 _You have no idea who I am_ _,_ he thought. That was all for the best.  

He took his time finishing the food because Niall Lynch was taking his time buying whatever he had come in to buy. The Grey Man still watched him carefully, timing it so that they were both leaving the store at the same time.  

Niall Lynch stopped to hold the door open, giving the Grey Man a quick but amicable smile. 

"Thanks," said the Grey Man, nodding. _Two years ago I killed your oldest son._  

Niall Lynch turned and walked towards a charcoal grey BMW parked a little ways away. The Grey Man paused under the pretense of checking for his wallet. He could see three other people waiting in the car, the rest of the Lynches, no doubt. Just before he got into the driver's seat, Niall Lynch paused and looked back over his shoulder. 

The two men locked gazes for a breath, then Niall got into the car. 

*** 

"Are you following them?" 

"Yes." 

"Do you have the meters on?" 

"Yes." 

"And?" 

"The signals are getting stronger." 

At the other end of the phone Colin Greenmantle let out a long, satisfied sigh. It was strange enough that the Grey Man glanced at the phone that lay in his lap with a raised eyebrow. Then Greenmantle said, "Good. Keep following them. Call me when you get to the farm." He hung up. 

The Grey Man shook his head and turned all of his attention back to the stretch of rural Virginia highway ahead of him. Some ways away he could see the Lynchs' BMW, driving along steady and unaware. Beside the Grey Man on the passenger seat the meters were blinking furiously. The further he drove, the more the meters blinked, picking up some growing energy signal. 

It was another ten minutes before the BMW turned and appeared to vanish into the trees. The Grey Man slowed, then pulled his own car over onto the gravelly shoulder of the road just beside the entrance to the Barns. He shut off the car and picked up one of the meters. The lights on the front were going wild—then all at once they stopped. 

Frowning, the Grey Man tapped the meter against the dashboard. That did nothing. He tossed it aside and grabbed another device, but this one also was dead to the world. And so was the next. And the next. Whatever reading they had been picking up was gone. 

The Grey Man sighed, braced himself, then called Greenmantle back. 

"What?!" Greenmantle snapped. "Are you there? Did you find something?" 

"They stopped picking up anything," said the Grey Man. "I'm parked right outside the farm and everything just went dead." 

Silence. Seething silence.  

"It's possible that—" Again the Grey Man hesitated. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Maybe Lynch doesn't have it on his property. Maybe I was following something else." 

"He's not that smart," Greenmantle said. "It has to be there." 

"You said yourself he hasn't brought any new product onto the market." 

Greenmantle made a disgruntled sound. "Here's what you're going to do; you're going to wait for the family to leave again—soon, don't wait until next Sunday—and then you're going to go search the property. And don't tell me that it's too big I don't care. Figure something out." 

"I know Lynch and his boys are sometimes all gone during the day," the Grey Man said. "But I think his wife almost never leaves. What should I—" 

"Niall Lynch's wife is an idiot," Greenmantle said. "Seriously, have you ever met her? He obviously didn't marry her for her personality, she's about as dumb as a vase." 

The Grey Man raised his eyebrows and said nothing. 

"What I'm _saying_ ," Greenmantle continued, "is that if you can't deal with her then you can look for another job. You're going to search that house before the week is over, got it?"  

"Yes," said the Grey Man. Again the line went dead. 

The Grey Man drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Then he grabbed the key, turned it, and made a very illegal U-turn in the middle of the deserted highway to start him back in the direction of Henrietta. If the search would have to wait anyway he might as well make use of his afternoon and pay the local psychics a visit. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So, not directly related but - I got to meet Maggie Stiefvater this weekend! She is ridiculously funny and very, very nice, and for some reason I decided I needed her to write the murder squash song in my copy of TRK to which her immediate response was "nope absolutely not" but after a minute of me going "pleeaaseee maggie" and her going "nooooo" she conceded to writing "Squash One..." so that was fantastic and my opinion of her is still that she's like, the coolest person alive.)


	7. Chapter 7

As Adam sat in the back seat of the Pig staring out at acres and acres of open, grassy field, he found himself wondering how many bad things had happened in pairs to cause the existence of the saying about waiting for the other shoe to drop. Vaguely the mental image of a giant shoe smashing Cabeswater into nonexistence crossed his mind and it almost made him laugh aloud. Almost, but not quite. 

Here the group sat staring in horror because Cabeswater was, in fact, completely gone. That, and the fact that the Pig had broken down, which was the less surprising of the two events. 

Adam leaned forward between the front seats to look at Gansey, sitting with both hands on the wheel and a lost expression on his face. Adam cleared his throat. "It needs a new battery." 

"Huh?" Gansey looked at him. "Cabeswater...?" 

"No, dumbass, your car," said Ronan from where he sat in the passenger seat, head tipped back and eyes closed. He was trying very hard to _look_ like he wasn't disturbed by the sudden disappearance of Cabeswater, but no one was buying it. 

Next to Adam, Blue sat up straighter. "Tow truck?" 

"State inspection's today," Adam said, shaking his head. "Boyd won't come out this far. Dunno where we're going to get a battery out here either though." 

Ronan muttered something under his breath, though all Adam caught was 'fucking car.'  

Gansey let out a loud sigh and rubbed both hands over his face, then ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay. _Oooo_ kay. Ronan is your dad around? Think he would bring us a battery?" 

"My dad?" Ronan said, as though Gansey had suggested they call the head of the FBI to come get them.  

"Yes, Ronan, your father," Gansey said. " _Pater tui._ Niall Lynch. The man who raised you. We're not too far from the Barns can you please call him?...You know what, nevermind, I'll call him." He got out of the car, fishing his phone from his pocket. 

Noah suck his hand around one side of Ronan's headrest to poke him in the neck. "Why are you so grumpy lately? Is it because of Cabeswater? Have you been fighting with your dad again?" 

"I'm always grumpy," Ronan said, slapping at the other boy's hand. "Quit it." 

"Noah's right," Blue chimed in. "You're being exceptionally abrasive, Lynch."  

Adam said nothing. He was watching Ronan closely; Ronan sat with his head tipped to the side now, neck taught, jaw clenched. Adam stared intently enough that he could see Ronan's pulse beating faintly just below his skin. Then all at once he moved, opening the door and storming out of the car, heading in the opposite direction of where Gansey was still talking (presumably) to Niall Lynch on the phone.  

Blue leaned back in her seat, lips pursed and expression deeply pensive.  

"Poor Ronan," Noah said, watching through the window as Ronan went over and snatched up a rock to throw as hard as he could. "I wish he would talk about his feelings more." 

"I don't know if the world is ready for that," Adam murmured. He looked at Blue and saw that she was still frowning thoughtfully. "What?" 

Blue shook her head. "Nothing." 

*** 

Less than ten minutes later Ronan opened the passenger side door again and looked at the three people in the backseat—rather, the two and a half people in the back seat. Noah was, strangely, looking less and less corporeal as the minutes passed. This only bolstered Adam's idea that maybe Gansey's inadvertent comment about Cabeswater needing a new battery hadn't been that far off after all. 

"One of you change places with me," Ronan said. "Front seat's open." 

Blue shrugged and scrambled forward to the passenger seat, which she then moved up so Ronan could climb in the back with Adam and mostly-Noah. Rather than just sitting, however, Ronan turned to lean back against the window and swing both legs across Adam's lap. Then he slid down and appeared to very abruptly fall asleep. Adam shifted, not quite sure what to do with his hands. He held them up for a minute before deciding to just let them fall on Ronan's jean-clad legs.  

"Your dad's gonna know you aren't asleep, Lynch," he said.  

Ronan didn't open his eyes, but he did make a half-hearted gesture of dismissal.  

Not long after that Niall Lynch's charcoal BMW pulled up behind the Camaro and Niall himself got out, then retrieved a battery from the trunk, which he brought over to where Gansey was leaning against the driver's side door of the Pig. They exchanged pleasantries, Niall glanced into the car, then the two of them went around the front to swap out the batteries.  

Blue turned in her seat to look back at the three boys. "Comfortable, Ronan?" 

"Yeah your boyfriend's got a great lap," Ronan said.  

Adam frowned. His glanced up to look at Blue. The corners of her mouth were turned down a little. She looked over and met his gaze, then gave a little shrug. "I don't know if that's the right..." But she trailed off, glancing at Adam again uncertainly.  

"Oh no, did you guys break up?" Noah asked.  

 Blue's entire face squinched up. "No—I mean—Jesus. We're not..." 

"I think Blue means we're not like, _going steady_ kind of dating we're just...we were just..." 

Ronan snorted. "'Going steady'? Are you from the 1950's, Parrish?" 

"Lynch, shut up," Adam said, giving Ronan's shin a light slap. A minute ago just his ears had been burning, now the sensation had expanded to his entire face. “What Blue—what we’re trying to say, I guess, is—“ 

"This is literally the worst conversation I've ever been a part of," Ronan said, sitting up. "Someone let me out of here." 

"We're done," Blue promised. "I just meant that I don't think 'boyfriend' is the right word. We're not boyfriend and girlfriend, really." 

Adam nodded, but he looked at Blue again. This was impossibly difficult territory and to be perfectly honest he was happy to be done talking about it in front of Ronan and Noah. Mostly Ronan. He glanced up then as Niall Lynch leaned in the driver's side window.  

Niall looked in the back seat and raised his eyebrows. "Ronan, sounds like everyone's coming back to the Barns so we can take a better look at the car, you want to ride with this lot or with me?" His gaze flicked to Noah then, a faint crease appearing between his eyebrows.  

"I'm good where I am," Ronan said.  

"Right." Niall nodded. "See you in a bit then." Casting Noah one last curious look he straightened and headed back to his car while Gansey got in behind the wheel of the Pig.  

*** 

When they pulled up at the Barns, the trees that lined the drive were casting long, dark shadows in the late afternoon light. Compared to the barren field that was _not_ Cabeswater, the Barns seemed even more magical, right down to the steady shrilling of cicadas and occasional low murmur of farm animal. As Adam climbed out of the Camaro he could hear the faint voices of the farm hands that Niall hired to help out in the fields, but even those sounded distant and muffled and un-real. 

He looked over at Blue, studying her face intently for any sign of unhappiness. What he found was quite the contrary, however, as the look she gave him was one of reassurance (and...relief?) before she turned to walk with Gansey towards the house. Adam gave himself a little shake and hurried after them. 

*** 

With the mystery of Cabeswater's disappearance in mind, Ronan managed to cajole his father into letting Blue, Gansey and Adam spend the night. Noah had disappeared almost as soon as they'd started driving back and Niall did not acknowledge that he had even been there in the first place, which in and of itself was a mystery seeing as he had definitely _seen_ him in the car earlier...  

And so while Aurora and Matthew made dinner, Niall, Gansey, and Adam went to check the Pig over, leaving Ronan and Blue alone in the living room. 

For just a little too long they both sat on the couch in silence. Chainsaw had landed in Blue's lap, and Blue was petting her in an absent sort of way, though her gaze was focused on Ronan. He chose to ignore that. After a bit he grabbed the remote from the coffee table and flipped on the TV. 

"You like nature and shit right?" Ronan said, settling on a rerun of National Geographic. 

Blue cleared her throat in a very pointed way. She set Chainsaw on the arm of the couch and scooted a little closer to Ronan. He continued to ignore her. After a minute she scooted closer again. Then again. Then _again_ , and this time she was pressed right up against him. 

" _What_ ," Ronan said, looking at her. "Do you want to spoon or something?" 

Blue turned and gave his arm a light punch with both fists. "I know your secret, Lynch." 

"Whoop dee do, I told everyone." 

"No, your other secret." 

Ronan turned to look down at her. Blue looked back up at him. Slowly she raised her eyebrows and nodded. He huffed and slouched down. "Whatever." 

"It's okay," Blue said. "We don't have to talk about it. I just wanted you to know it's okay." 

"I _know_ it's okay," Ronan snapped.  

Patiently, Blue rubbed his arm, though she did purse her lips. "I'm not trying to be patronizing, don't get all snotty with me, Ronan Lynch." Then she grinned. "Now shut up and let me learn about lemurs." 

"Don't tell me to shut up, you started this,” Ronan said. He felt grateful, to be honest, that Blue wasn't demanding he spill his feelings to her.  Maybe she _did_ know him better than he thought. “I think you _are_ a lemur.” 

Blue leaned against him so she could face the TV. "Your _face_ is a lemur." 

"That doesn't even make sense, maggot," Ronan said.  

"Your _face_ doesn't—" 

"God shut up." Ronan wrapped an arm around her head and ruffled her hair until Blue elbowed him sharply in the ribs and he let go. A single laugh escaped him then, unbidden and short, but genuine. Without looking he knew Blue was probably smirking at him. 

*** 

Ronan did not mean to dream.  

Rather, he did not _want_ to.  Not tonight. 

He was in the kitchen of his house. Strange grey light came in from outside, and Ronan tried to turn on the kitchen light but it wouldn't, no matter how many times he flipped the switch. When he looked at the table, Orphan Girl was sitting there eating a bowl of cereal. In front of her was the Whinny-the-Poo sippy cup Matthew had always loved as a toddler.  

"Greywaren." 

It was impossible to tell if Orphan Girl had said it or someone else. She looked up at Ronan however, holding her arms out like a child asking to be picked up..  

Ronan walked around to her. He reached down with one hand, reaching for the sippy cup. He could remember how it felt in his hands, the weight of it when it was filled with juice. A second before he touched it, however, Ronan jerked his hand away. 

His father had taught him to not bring things back. Ronan wanted to know the opposite; he wanted to know how _to_ bring things back, but it was forbidden. 

"Rule number one of Pater's guide to not bringing things back," Orphan Girl said, still looking up at him. "Do not touch familiar objects in your dreams." 

"You could touch me instead." This voice came from the doorway behind him. 

Ronan spun around. Adam stood in the doorway, leaning against it. His hands were covered in something black, grease maybe, or engine oil. He wore his Coca-Cola t-shirt and denim overalls. There was something wrong with his face, though. Or maybe there was just something wrong with his _expression_. It was not an expression that Adam Parrish would ever make in real life.  

"Not here, not now," Ronan said, holding his own hands up and backing away from both Adam and Orphan Girl.  

Orphan Girl looked at Adam, and _her_ expression was uncomfortable. "Ronan..." she whispered. 

"I know your secret, Lynch," Adam said, but he said it in Blue's voice, which was deeply unsettling. He blinked, and a drop of black ran down the side of his nose. It dripped off his chin and when it hit the floor it started spreading out, making a pattern like veins across the linoleum tiles. 

_Mom's going to be mad about that_ , Ronan thought. He took another step back from this weird, dream version of Adam.  

Nightmare version. 

"You heard a car in the driveway," Adam said, in his own voice, but not his own voice because it was taunting and jeering in a way that Adam never was. "You heard it but you _waited,_ you stayed in bed for fifteen minutes before going downstairs to see if it was your brother because you were _scared_. He might have still been alive when they dumped him in the driveway, if you had only been—" 

"Shut up!" Ronan shouted. 

Dream Adam reached out and pressed his hand over Ronan's mouth. The black stuff on his skin smelled like rotting meat. "If you hadn't been such a coward you might have been able to call an ambulance in time! It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault!" 

Orphan Girl covered her ears and began to scream.  

Ronan reached up, trying to pry Adam's hand off of his mouth, but Adam's hand was elongating into a talon. The black stuff was running from his eyes and his nose, covering his skin, which was breaking apart into scales and feathers. Before Ronan's eyes Adam shook and expanded, changing into something not human. Changing into a night horror. 

Leaning back against the counter behind him Ronan kicked the night horror away with both feet. Then he found his footing and ran out into the hall, not realizing that somewhere between seeing the night horror change and kicking it, he woke up. 

*** 

Niall had always been a heavy sleeper, but it would have been near impossible to sleep through the loud crash and accompanying shouts from down the hall that happened sometime in the early hours of the morning. He was on his feet beside the bed even before his brain had fully caught up. Motioning emphatically for Aurora to stay where she was he looked first to the gun safe in the corner by the window, then reconsidered, dropping to his knees and feeling around under the bed until his hand closed around the crowbar lying there. 

Barefoot and wearing only pajama bottoms, Niall crossed to the door in two quick strides and yanked it open, reaching around to flick the switch on the other side and turn on the hall light. 

The scene that greeted him was this: to his left stood Richard Gansey in the doorway to the guest room, his arms spread; just behind him were Blue and Adam. All three were looking down the hall in the direction of the stairs. At the farthest end Niall could just see Ronan and Matthew—Ronan looming protectively in front of his little brother, shielding him from the _thing_ that stood between them and Niall. 

The thing was a monster. A demon. An abomination. A nightmare. It was so _wrong_ that it was difficult to look at for very long, but Niall did anyway, trying to figure out how he could take the thing down. It had no head. It had several heads. It had two beaks, or was it three? Or four? Were those eyes or were they mouths lined with teeth? He could barely see Ronan and Matthew now because the creature had spread a great wing, knocking several pictures off the hall table.  

"You three!" Niall hissed at the teens to his left. "Get behind me, go!"  

For a moment Gansey looked paralyzed with shock, then he snapped into action, grabbing Sargent and Parrish by their wrists and yanking them along with him behind Niall into the master bedroom where Aurora was.  

The sudden movement attracted the attention of the night horror. It swung around, glossy beaks opening to scream a horrid, croaking scream at them. Beyond it, Niall thought he heard Matthew crying. In the brief glimpse he got of his two boys as the _thing_ turned, he could see Matthew clinging to Ronan, who was trying both to hug him and cover him at the same time.  

When Ronan met Niall's gaze there was an uncharacteristic look of raw fear in his eyes.  

"Right, you great ugly bastard!" Niall snarled, gripping the crowbar in both hands. "Lets see what you're made of."  

He darted forward, swinging the crowbar like a bat at the horror's beak that was nearest him. The blow stunned it, giving Niall the chance to dart in once more, hitting it again, and again, and again, each time the crowbar connected with the thing's body it made a dull, meaty sort of _thud_. 

Unfortunately for him the night horror recovered. Niall didn't even see the claw come up until it had closed around the crowbar, snatching it from his hands. He hissed as the chisel tip end scraped against his skin and in that second of distraction the night horror grabbed him, throwing him back down the hallway as though he was nothing. 

Ronan saw his father hit the wall and collapse in an unmoving heap. Terror and adrenaline spiked him, goaded on by the sounds of Matthew sniffling, by the startled cry his mother let out when his father hit the floor.  

"Matthew!" Ronan said, frantically pushing his little brother back into his bedroom. "Get down!"  

The younger boy collapsed, crouching down and still shaking. 

The crowbar that the night horror had thrown had smashed into one of the large framed pictures on the wall, shattering the glass into large wicked looking shards. Ronan hesitated only a second before grabbing one.  

Looking down the hall he caught Gansey's eye and tried to give him a look that would express what he needed him to do.  

_Distract it. Come on, man._  

"Hey!" Gansey shouted, waving his arms as he stepped into the doorway. "Hey Big Bird!" 

The night horror looked at him and screamed, craning its misshapen head. Ronan jumped on its back, his hands sliding over greasy feathers as he fought to hold on.  The second he had purchase however he held the glass shard like a knife, driving it into the side of the night horror's neck and ignoring the feeling of the glass cutting into his own skin. 

He let go. Great gouts of reddish-black blood spouted from the creature as it let out a gurgling wail and started stumbling backwards. Ronan knew they were dangerously close to the top of the stairs and he frantically tried to jump off of it but they were already falling, falling— 

They hit the stairs and the wind was knocked from Ronan's lungs. All he saw was black feathers and gore-covered scales. The night horror's corpse rolled over him, he reached out, fumbling blindly, grabbing the spindle like supports of the bannister.  

All at once it was over. Ronan lay, bruised and bleeding halfway down the stairs. Below him on the landing lay the pile that was the night horror.  

" _Ronan_!" Aurora cried, already charging down the hall and hurrying down the stairs to her son. She knelt, gently pulling Ronan upright. "Oh, oh no...oh sweetheart..." 

"Mom," Ronan said hoarsely. "I'm okay, I'm okay..." This wasn't entirely true, he felt like the whole side of his body was one big bruise, his head ached and his right palm was oozing an almost inordinate amount of blood.  

Gansey appeared at the top of the stairs. "Mrs. Lynch, I called an ambulance they're on their way...Here use this to wrap up his hand." He tossed a t-shirt down to her. 

Aurora nodded, pursing her lips as she tightly wound the t-shirt around Ronan's hand, then wrapped her arms around him. Holding him to her chest she said, "We need to get that thing out of here before they arrive. Is Niall—?" 

"I'm right here, my angel," Niall said, stepping up next to Gansey, looking dazed but all right. "Ronan?" 

"M'okay," Ronan said again, but he didn't try to pull away from his mother, letting himself be exhausted for a few minutes.  

*** 

By the time the paramedics arrived, Niall, Gansey, Adam, and Blue had wrapped the night horror in a tarp and carried it outside.  Ronan and Aurora sat in the living room, where the paramedics checked Ronan over and determined that he did not have a concussion and the cut on his hand would be fine with heavy bandaging rather than stitches. 

Ronan had been concerned about just how they would explain this one, but when asked Aurora gestured at the stairs, held up her hands and said, "Teenage boys, that's what we get for letting him have a sleepover." 

While the paramedic was dressing his hand, Ronan looked up and was surprised to see Noah standing in the archway between the hall and the living room, his smudgy face pinched in concern. When he saw Ronan looking he waved a little. The paramedics didn't pay any attention to him, if they saw him at all, but Aurora glanced up and smiled.  

And then the paramedics were gone, and the house was oddly quiet as the group all trudged into the kitchen. Outside the sky was just beginning to turn the blue-grey shade that preceded dawn, birds were starting to cheep, and the night horror's attack began to feel less and less real as the minutes passed. 

Ronan saw Matthew sitting at the table and he went over to squeeze his shoulder. "Hey, you okay?" 

"Yeah," Matthew said. His eyes were wide. "Are _you_ okay?" 

Grinning, Ronan held up his bandaged hand. "Gonna have a sick scar when this heals up." He looked up and saw his father gazing down at them. Niall was still wearing just his pajama bottoms, though he'd added a pair of rubber boots no doubt for taking the night horror's corpse outside. Folding his arms over his bare chest he raised his eyebrows. Ronan raised his eyebrows back at him. 

"Alright," Niall said, glancing around at the others. "I'd suggest everyone try to get a little sleep, cleaning can wait a few hours..." His gaze lingered on Noah for a second longer than the others and he cocked his head to the side, then gave himself a shake. "Upstairs, everyone..." The look he threw his older son told Ronan this didn't include him.  

As the others trailed out of the kitchen, Niall took Matthew's vacated chair next to Ronan. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. "It didn't hurt you in the dream first, did it?" 

"No," Ronan said. He peered at his father curiously. "You knew what that thing was?" 

Niall gave him a bitter smile. "You think I don't have my own nightmares? Remember this," he tapped the scar on his chest. "Mine look a little different than yours, but they're all the same at the core." 

"What do yours look like?" Ronan asked. 

"Devils. Demons. Hell beasts." Niall reached out and ran his fingers over Ronan's forearm, and the crosshatching of old scars there. "This was the same sorta creature that did this to ya, isn't it?" 

Ronan nodded. "I just...I haven't brought one with me before." 

Niall gazed at him, worry apparent on his face though he said nothing. After what felt like a very, very long time he reached up to pat the side of Ronan's face. "You think you can sleep more, or do you want to help me get an early start with things?" 

"Sleep is for the weak," Ronan said, and found that he could smile again. 


	8. Chapter 8

The sunlight falling in through the tall windows of Monmouth Manufacturing had a heaviness to it, like the heat of the day was trying to physically manifest itself somehow. Gansey was crouched on the floor over his map of the ley line. Blue and Ronan sat on his bed. Blue was painting her nails, though after a moment she made a grab for Ronan’s bare foot, which he quickly moved out of her reach. 

“Maggot.” 

“What! I think green would look very nice on you.” 

Ronan curled his lip. “What, because I’m Irish? Way to stereotype.” 

Gansey rolled over to look at them. “Children. Do I have to separate you two?” 

“Tell Sargent I don’t need my toenails painted,” Ronan said. 

“Green _would_ look nice on you, Lynch, I hear it makes your feet look smaller,” Gansey said, the corner of his mouth quirking into a barely restrained grin. Then, expression shifting back again, he asked, “Hey did your dad say anything else about the…you know, _thing_ , the other night?” 

Ronan snorted loudly and arched an eyebrow. “What, my dad say something useful about dream-things? No. All I got was the usual ‘you need to focus harder on not bringing things back with you.’” Leaning back on his hands he extended one leg, setting his foot in Blue’s lap and wiggling his toes, much to her delight. 

Gansey rubbed his thumb over his lower lip, then moved his hand to the back of his neck, frowning and looking down at the map again. “Maybe you need to ask someone else then.” 

“Oh yeah? Like who?” Ronan asked.  

“It’s too bad you don’t know anyone else who lives with people who can do magic,” Blue said, still hunched over as she carefully applied the dark green polish to Ronan’s toenails. “Especially something useful, like psychics who can look into the exact nature of objects and abilities.” 

Silence followed this. When she finished with his one foot, Ronan dropped the other one into her lap but he said coldly, “No.” 

Blue looked up. “No?” 

“I said no, Sargent, I’m not going to ask one of your multiple moms for a reading or whatever the fuck you’re suggesting.” 

“Why not?” Blue asked, turning back to painting his nails. “They’re not going to tell your future or anything if that’s what you’re worried about, we’d just ask Calla to take a look at one of your dream objects and—oh _seriously?_ This is a religion thing, isn’t it?” 

Ronan was silent, narrowing his eyes a little.  

“Really?” Blue looked up at him again, scowling. “Is this the part where you start using words like ‘occult’ and telling me that my family is going to Hell? I’ve heard that a hundred times but I didn’t think I’d hear it from one of my _friends_.” 

“Now you’re putting words in my mouth,” Ronan said, lip curling a little. “I didn’t say it.” 

For a split second Blue looked genuinely hurt. “But you were thinking it. _God_ , you’re such a hypocrite. How is it that what you and your dad can do is okay, but you’re going to sit there and judge _my_ family? I’m pretty sure the last time I was at your house a literal demon followed you out of your dreams!” She let out a huff and proceeded to do the most vehement job imaginable of finishing the rest of Ronan’s nails before she shoved his foot away.  

“I _didn’t_ say a damn thing about your family, Sargent,” Ronan said. “What I think is my own business.” 

“You’ve been complaining nonstop about how your dad won’t teach you anything useful about your dreaming ability,” Blue said. “I’m offering you help but you’re going to refuse it because you get to decide what magic is okay and what magic isn’t?” 

Ronan chewed his lip, shrugging and looking over at Chainsaw who was preening herself on the windowsill. 

“Is this because my family are all women?” Blue asked. 

“No. Jesus, no,” Ronan said, sighing. 

Taking a deep breath to reign in her annoyance, Blue tried a different tactic. “Think about how much this could help us look for Glendower,” she said, with a pointed look at Gansey. It was a low blow but an effective one. “If you could actually control your ability, like with that plane you made, except more. Your abilities could mean the difference between us finding him and us failing.” 

It might have been a ploy on Blue’s part, but they both knew she was right. Ronan scratched the back of his head, carefully putting both feet flat on the bed again. He stared down at his toes and said nothing for a full two minutes. Then, finally he said, “You know, you’re right, Maggot, green does look pretty sweet on me.” 

And Blue smiled because she knew that meant he would do it. 

*** 

Niall decided to call Seondeok.  

Out of all the people he had met in his years of involvement in the world of magical artifacts, she had always been his favorite. Actually, she was the only person in those circles that he could full-heartedly say he truly _liked_. They were the closest anyone could get to being ‘best friends’ in this business, and despite several obnoxiously persistent rumors, that was _all_ they were. 

So, now, in a fit of desperation he called her, though as he expected she didn't have anything to tell him that he didn't already know.  Which was a bit unfortunate considering she was the only psychic in the world that Niall trusted.  

“I think,” Seondeok said after a moment of ponderous silence once he had filled her in on what was happening, “that you only have one real choice before you.” 

Niall let out a heavy sigh. It was early afternoon and he sat on the back steps of the farmhouse, staring out across the yard and the fields. Inside he could hear Aurora singing while she cleaned the kitchen. “I was afraid you'd say that.” 

“If you are truly done with this life, then give him what he is asking for and _be_ done.” 

“Let's say I _did_ have the ability to do that,” Niall said. “D’you really want that bastard running around with the power to pull shite from his dreams? D’you want to see what's inside Greenmantle’s head, ‘cause I sure as hell don't.” 

Seondeok hummed thoughtfully. “Also a fair point. Can you truly not give it to him? Did you get rid of it?” 

“Let's go with that,” Niall said, because she might be his friend but he was smart enough not to trust her _that_ much.  

"You are such a liar," Seondeok said with a quiet laugh. Then she sobered. "Well, then, do you have a better idea?" 

Niall shifted a little, using his thumb to pick at a peeling piece of paint on the porch rail. He watched a fat bumblebee land on the wildflowers that Aurora let grow in the beds next to the stairs. "I want to kill him," he said finally. 

Seondeok scoffed. "I said a _better_ idea, Niall." 

"But it could be done, yeah?" Niall said. "Seo—he's as much a danger to your kids as he is mine, you know that. So if we were theoretically going to take him down, how would we do it?" 

"We would need more people to stand with us," Seondeok said. She sounded uncertain, which was a rare thing from her. "I am sure other people would like to see him go; the problem is that they also would _prefer_ to just keep their noses down and hands clean." 

Niall sighed loudly and rubbed his face. "Fucking cowards." 

"I am going to pretend you did not say that," Seondeok said. "Your whole world is made of glass right now, it is not the time to start throwing stones. Especially if you are serious about this frankly foolish plan..." 

The unspoken ' _but..._ ' hung in the air after her words, and Niall straightened. He could imagine the exact look on her face right now, and he began to smile. "You're going to help me." 

"I think that murdering a child because you didn't get your way is absolutely despicable," Seondeok said, bitterly. "I will not help you _kill_ Greenmantle, but I will help you bring him down if you are set on that." 

"Thank you," Niall murmured. "You know I would do the same if Henry was in danger." 

"I know." She sucked a breath in through clenched teeth, making a strained hiss in Niall's ear. "I will make some calls. I hope you know I am not just doing this for you." 

Niall nodded, then said, "I do." 

"Say hello to Aurora for me. I will call you in a few days." 

"Take care Seo," Niall said, then hung up the phone. 

*** 

300 Fox Way always made Ronan think of a beehive, both from the sheer level of constant activity and also from the overwhelmingly confusing physical layout of the place. As he, Blue, and Gansey stepped through the front door they had to immediately flatten themselves against the wall to avoid being trampled as two or three small children barreled down the stairs and through the hall, shrieking and trailing what appeared to be brightly colored streamers. 

"Whose were those?" Gansey asked, eyes wide. 

Blue gave a shrug. "No idea. They're probably cousins or second cousins or something. Come on, Calla's either in the kitchen or upstairs." 

Chainsaw let her displeasure at the presence of small children be known, loudly, before pressing her body against the side of Ronan's neck, her claws tightening just a little on his shoulder. He reached up, using one knuckle to smooth down the feathers on her breast and reassure her that he wasn't going to set her down.  

Calla was not in the kitchen so the trio tramped up the stairs. Blue led the way to the phone/sewing/cat room, where they found Calla hanging upside down from a length of silk fabric attached to the ceiling. In the same way she didn't react to the unfamiliar children running rampant, Blue did not react to this in any strange or surprised way, so neither did Ronan or Gansey.  

Blue cleared her throat, waiting until Calla had rotated so she was looking at them, albeit still upside down. "Calla, we need your advice. Or help." 

"I'm sure you do," Calla said. "What have you done this time?" 

"Nothing, yet," Blue said. She had brought the puzzle box with them, but kept it under her arm for now. "But we need to ask you some things. About Ronan." 

Calla continued spinning, very slowly, the silk wrapped around one of her thighs. It all looked impossible and vaguely magical, though it was neither of those things. "Which one's he?" 

Ronan snorted. "The snake," he said, supporting the statement with a viper's smile. 

"Oh. You." Calla craned her neck a little to glance at him. "Well, what is it?" 

Rather than answer with words, Blue stepped forward and held the puzzle box out. Calla ignored it for a minute as she slowly changed her position in the silk fabric, hooking it around both thighs and extending her legs as she sat upright, feet pointed, body canted forward. She continued rotating but when she was facing Blue she reached out and put both hands on the puzzle box for several seconds.  

Then she took her hands back, frowning deeply. Her gaze moved to Ronan's face. "Come here, snake." 

Ronan hesitated. The last time he had let Calla touch him was when they had first come to 300 Fox Way. At his challenge she had put two fingers against part of his tattoo and told him 'A secret killed your brother and you know what it is.' He hadn't liked hearing that, and now he eyed her warily.  

" _You_ came to _me,_ " Calla reminded them, sounding annoyed. "Either come here or let me finish exercising in peace." 

Sighing, Ronan passed Chainsaw to Blue and stepped forward, closer to Calla. She reached out and for a minute was going to grab his hand, then saw the bandage wrapped around it. Instead she grabbed his forearm, clasping her hand over a particularly scarred part of his skin. She put her other hand against the side of his head and pursed her lips. Several seconds went by, the crease on her forehead deepening.  

"Blue," she said. 

Blue stepped forward, knowing what Calla was asking. She reached out and put one hand on Calla's shoulder, both amplifying her and keeping her from moving. Calla fell silent again. 

Finally she said, "I always thought your father was a bastard, but this is something else entirely." 

"You know my dad?" Ronan asked, momentarily distracted by that little detail. 

"This is rural Virginia, how many boxing gyms do you think there are in the area?" Calla asked.  

Blue let out a startled laugh. "You've boxed with him?" 

"No," Calla said. "But I've seen him around enough to know he's a bastard." 

"What did you see just now?" Ronan cut in, less concerned with Calla's opinion of his father and more concerned with what she actually knew about him. 

"When your brother died," Calla said, "your father told you he destroyed all the dream objects on the farm, didn't he?" 

Ronan was quiet for a very long time after that, staring at her. Finally he nodded.  

"Your father is a liar," Calla continued. She slowly extended one arm, winding it through the silk. "He destroyed most of the dream objects, but not all of them." 

Now Gansey and Blue were staring at Ronan. He glanced at them and saw the confusion evident on their faces.  

But he knew, and Calla _knew_ that he knew. 

"My mom is not an _object_ ," Ronan said. 

"Jesus," Gansey said. "Christ." 

Calla snorted, either at one or both of them. "Your father literally dreamed up his perfect idea of a wife, if that isn't objectification I don't know what is." 

"Do you have anything helpful to say?" Ronan snarled. 

"Not if you're going to talk to me like that," Calla replied.  

Blue cleared her throat, waving her hands in what was meant to be a placating gesture as she stepped next to Ronan. "Calla, Ronan's father doesn't want him dreaming. He said it has something to do with...with why his brother was killed...Ronan just wants to know more about how it works, if you can tell him." 

Calla extended one hand again, this time reaching out to put her fingers on top of Chainsaw's head for a moment. Chainsaw did not appreciate this and snapped at her fingers. Calla responded by snapping her teeth at the raven, then looking back at Ronan. "This is where it gets weird, snake." 

"Because it wasn't fucking weird already," Ronan muttered, folding his arms over his chest. 

"Your dream objects feel the same as you. They are a _part_ of you, a part of your soul." Calla trailed off, taking in the look Ronan was still giving her. "Don't glare at me like that, boy. You wanted answers to questions that your father wouldn't tell you, so I'm giving them to you." 

He took Chainsaw back from Blue, then folded his arms over his chest.  

"Dream creatures—your bird there and your mother—are like computers; they function just fine with their dreamer inputting code into them, but the minute their user disconnects they go to sleep," Calla said.  

"So if my dad dies, my mom dies," Ronan said. 

"Not exactly, but close enough," Calla said. "It would probably be something closer to a coma that she could never wake from. But what else do computers need to keep functioning besides a user?" 

Ronan and Gansey both frowned, but Blue said almost immediately, "Electricity. Power." 

"Bingo," said Calla. 

Now Ronan was thinking about something else entirely; he was thinking about Cabeswater, and about the Camaro. He was thinking about Cabeswater being gone, and about the Camaro's battery dying. When he looked up he saw Calla grinning at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking.  

"Does that mean that Ronan's mom gets her...power from the ley line?" Blue asked slowly. 

"I can't say," Calla said. "I don't know. But taking things out of dreams certainly requires power, that's just using basic logic." 

Ronan's thoughts turned from Cabeswater and the Camaro to Cabeswater and Noah, and then to the power surges that had been happening in Henrietta that week. His bandaged hand itched and he flexed it a little without thinking. Power surges. Cabeswater and Noah randomly disappearing and in Noah's case, reappearing and weakening. Power. Dreaming. Ley lines fluctuating.  

"My dad's still fucking dreaming," Ronan hissed.  

Gansey looked at him. "Are you sure?" 

"That's gotta be what made Cabeswater disapp—" 

"Wait," Blue cut in. "What's this got to do with Cabeswater?" 

"You missed that part of the conversation," Calla said, her voice full of dark laughter. "That thing's a dream too." 

Blue and Gansey looked at Ronan with wide eyes.  

"Someone is drawing power from the ley line," Ronan said. "And my dad's the only other person I know who can do that, which makes him a fucking hypocrite." 

"Jesus," said Blue. 

"Christ," said Gansey. 

Ronan said nothing and stormed out of the room. 

*** 

Niall was just returning the gas pump nozzle to the stand when another car pulled up on the other side of the pump, a white Mitsubishi Evo with a knife graphic splashed across the side. It was an easily identifiable car, one Niall had seen a few times in the Aglionby student parking lot and, more recently, when it pulled up next to them at a stop light so the driver could shout something to Ronan. 

The boy who got out of the car was Ronan's age, skinny, wearing a white tank top, white framed sunglasses and a gold chain. He had all the frenetic energy of a coke addict, and all the external identifiers of a rich kid whose parents were never around. Niall tried to remember his name— something eastern European—but it wasn't coming to him. 

When the boy saw Niall watching him he slowly removed his sunglasses and circled around. "Shit, you're Lynch's old man, aren't you," he said, mouth turning up into a dangerous smile. 

"And you're the lad who made a comment about my wife the other day," Niall said, calm as you like, taking his credit card out to pay for the gas.  

Kawalsky? Kavinsky? Kavinsky. Joseph Kavinsky. That was what Matthew had said his name was.  

Kavinsky laughed. "No offense meant, man, she's a pretty lady." 

Niall raised an eyebrow at him. "Can I do something for you?" As he watched Kavinsky lean casually against the side of the gas pump, it struck Niall why this boy put him off so badly; he was a distorted image of Ronan, or rather, an image of everything Niall was afraid Ronan would become if he wasn't careful.  

Growing up a poor Catholic boy in Belfast during the '70s and '80s had taught Niall several important things, not the least of which was how to tell who would be your friend and who would knock your teeth out before putting a bullet through your head. It had taken him all of half a second to decide which of those things Joseph Kavinsky was. 

"Probably not," Kavinsky said with a sharp inhale. He rubbed his nose. "I'm more interested in the younger Lynch." 

Niall let out a short laugh. "I know the sort of boys Ronan associates with, and you aren't one of them." 

"Is this the part where you tell me to stay the hell away from your son?" Kavinsky asked, mouth widening in a Cheshire grin. He looked absolutely delighted to be having this conversation with Niall, though _why_ he was so happy was another question entiely. "Cuz that ain't gonna work." 

"I don't need to," Niall said. He put his card and the gas receipt into his wallet then opened the driver's side door of the BMW. "Ronan's smart enough to stay away from you on his own." 

Kavinsky laughed. It wasn't a very nice sound. "Shit, man. That's hilarious. I know your kid better than you do!" 

Niall paused getting into the car, his arm resting on top of the door. Begrudgingly he looked at Kavinsky and asked, "How d'you reckon?" 

"The thing is, _Mister_ Lynch," Kavinsky said, walking over to stand just a little too close to Niall for his liking. The boy smelled like beer and pot smoke. "I _know_ what your kid is. And I'm not talking about the fact that he takes it up the ass either—oh too much for you?" 

"You'll have to do better than that if you're trying to shock me," Niall said. He started to lower himself into the car then stopped again when Kavinsky actually grabbed his arm. "Lad, let go. I'll only say it once." 

Kavinsky leaned in. "I know where he got that bird. Tell Ronan 'sweet dreams' for me, will ya? See you around, Mr. Lynch.” He winked, then laughed and turned to start back over to his own car. 

Niall sat down and started the car, then he closed his eyes for a second. This couldn't be. He couldn't have meant what Niall thought he meant but at the same time Niall didn't really believe in coincidences. God does not play at dice, someone famous had once said. Even in Niall's personal experience, everything happened for a reason. 

_Fuck_.  

This just got a hell of a lot more complicated. 

*** 

Adam was just locking up at Boyd's when he heard a car pull up in the parking lot behind him. He turned, frowning, fully ready to tell whoever it was that the shop was closed and they could come back in the morning, but when he got a better look once the headlights turned off he realized the car was Ronan’s dark BMW, and Ronan himself was getting out of the driver’s seat. “Hey, Parrish.”  

"Lynch," Adam said, walking over to him. Standing next to Ronan in his expensive jeans and immaculate black tank top, Adam suddenly felt all the more conscious of his grease stained coveralls and worn t-shirt. "What're you doing here?"   

"I was hanging out with Gansey and Sargent," Ronan said. "Thought you might want a ride home. C'mon, you can put your bike in the trunk."   

Adam shrugged and moved to unchain his bike then wheel it around to the back of the car. Ronan popped the trunk and helped him fit it inside before using a bit of twine to keep the trunk closed over it.    

"You all get up to anything exciting today?" Adam asked.   

Ronan flashed him a grin. "I let Sargent paint my toenails. Green. They look pretty nice."   

"All right then," Adam said, laughing. "That sounds a lot better than my day."   

"We also went to talk to one of her moms. The one who doesn't like me."   

Adam raised his eyebrows. "Calla?"   

"Yeah." Ronan fidgeted with his car keys. "I'll tell you what she said. Are you hungry? Nino's is still open."   

"What is it with you and making sure I've eaten?" Adam asked as they got into the car. "Nino's is fine but you're not paying for me."   

Ronan scoffed. "Whatever man."   

***  

They went to Nino's, but took their slices to go and ate them while sitting on the trunk of the BMW so Ronan wouldn't have to leave Chainsaw unattended in the car for too long. While they ate, Ronan told Adam about everything Calla had said earlier. For a while Adam said nothing, chewing his pizza and mulling over these new pieces of information.   

"So your mom is a dream?" he said, because that was the first thing that came to his mind to say.   

"Yeah." Ronan chewed on the straw of his drink for a second. "Apparently. Dad dreamed her. It’s weird...I think part of me _knew_ that, somehow."   

Adam thought about Aurora Lynch and how devoted she was, how sweet, how gentle. Both Ronan and Niall were so rough-and-ready and yet their minds produced the most wondrous things. "And…Cabeswater? You think this is why it's gone?"   

"I think the ley line doesn't have enough energy to keep it going," Ronan said, and that made sense to Adam. "And I think it must be because my dad is dreaming other things still."   

"Like what?" Adam asked.    

"Fucked if I know," Ronan said. He leaned forward and chucked the mostly empty soda cup in a graceful arc towards the trash bin. It landed inside and Ronan let out a whoop then patted Adam on the shoulder. "We should get going."   

Adam nodded, and he carried his trash over to the bin then went to get back in the BMW. Once both doors were closed he looked at Ronan and asked, "Are you okay?"   

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"   

"That's a pretty big load of information to have dropped in your lap," Adam said.    

Ronan shrugged. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, then turned to look at Adam.  

Adam felt pinned by that stare. It was not the kind of look he normally expected from Ronan Lynch; deep and contemplative and intent. His pulse sped up just a little, and had the sudden urge to lean closer, though he didn't. 

_Ronan Lynch wants to kiss me_.  

The thought formed unbidden in his mind, exploding in a sudden improbable realization. Ronan Lynch wanted to kiss him. But what if he was wrong? Blue didn’t want to kiss him, why would Ronan?  

The sound of the car starting startled Adam. Ronan had turned the key in the ignition, but he hadn't moved his gaze from Adam's face. It didn't even look like he had blinked.   

"Why are you staring at me?" Adam asked. His mouth felt dry. His heart was pounding.  

Ronan looked away. Adam felt strangely disappointed. "I'm not staring," Ronan said as he backed the car out and turned quickly out of the parking lot.  

"Must've been real zoned out, you were definitely staring, Lynch," Adam said. "Either that or you think I'm pretty and you just won't admit it." He laughed, but the laugh sounded forced and his attempt to make light of the situation fell flat, which just led him to think even more strongly that he had been right. 

Ronan opened his mouth and let out a long breath. Adam didn't quite know what to make of that. In the orange glow of street lights Ronan's face looked sharp and dangerous. He reached down to flick on the stereo and a second later a heavy pulsing beat filled the car. 

Adam felt pressed to say something because this not-silence had gotten awkward. "What band is this?" 

"What?" Ronan gave him a surprised look. 

"I assume even shitty music is made by real people. What's the group called?" 

"It’s a remix of something by The Chemical Brothers." 

"Oh." Adam said, because of course he had never heard of them. He leaned back in his seat, turning to look out the window. 

A few minutes passed, then Ronan said, "You wanna know why I listen to this stuff?" 

Adam turned his head to look at him in surprise. "Why?" 

"Because it drowns out my thoughts,” Ronan said. “Corny, right? But it works. You know, for a week after my brother died I couldn’t sleep. Then I was randomly listening to this shit—” here he flicked two fingers at the stereo "—and I realized that I didn't think as much when I had a beat like this vibrating in my skull. No more overthinking. No more seeing my dead brother's face when I just wanted to pass out." 

"Oh," Adam said again, because of course there was nothing else he could say.  

"Fuck," Ronan sighed. 

Adam bit his lip. "Ronan, it wasn't—" 

"No, _look_ ," Ronan said, nodding out his window. 

Adam looked. He saw a white Mitsubishi, the window rolled down and two people inside. One of the people was Joseph Kavinsky, leaning over his passenger to shout out to them, "Lynch! Hey, babydoll, didn't expect to see you out here! Who's that with you? Parrish? Isn't it past his bedtime?" 

Ronan made a very loud gagging sound when Kavinsky said 'babydoll.' "What do you want?" 

"You still owe me a race, princess, what do you say?" 

Turning, Ronan looked at Adam and tilted his head questioningly. Adam shook his head, thinking about what Gansey would say. Or what Ronan's parents would say. But Ronan's eyes were wild and lit strangely by the streetlights and the red of the stoplight and Adam knew what his answer was going to be, so Adam checked his seatbelt and grabbed the strap on the ceiling.  

Ronan turned to Kavinsky and he must have done something Adam couldn't see because a second later Kavinsky let out a delighted yell. "That's what I'm talkin' about! Alright ladies, better hold on tight..." 

A bass beat heavy enough to shake both cars boomed into the night as the light turned green. 


	9. Chapter 9

The race was much shorter than Adam was expecting, or maybe it was just faster than he had been expecting. While it happened though he felt weightless and insubstantial, completely at the whim of the car and the road. For him at least, there was nothing besides the BMW and its occupants. There was him, hanging onto the strap, seat belt tight against his chest. There was Ronan, hands on the wheel and rapture on his face. There was the thrumming pulse of the music. Or maybe it was his own heartbeat. 

And then it was over.  

They won, but only by a single car length and for some reason that seemed to upset Ronan who sprang out of the car as soon as it stopped, shouting to Kavinsky over their combined sound systems, "Your Evo has no right to be that fucking fast, man, what'd you do to it?!" 

"Don't be a sore winner, Princess!" Kavinsky shouted back. He stepped up onto the bottom part of the driver's side doorframe so he could look down at Ronan and Adam across the roof of the Mitsubishi. "A guy's gotta have his secrets!" 

Adam circled around to stand next to Ronan. He folded his arms loosely over his chest, mostly so the other boys couldn't see how badly his hands were shaking. 

Kavinsky's leering gaze turned to him. "What'd you think, trailer trash?" 

"I think Ronan's right," Adam called. "You shouldn't haven't been able to keep up, not with the way you drive." 

"Shouldn't...but did," Kavinsky said. He turned back to Ronan. "Hey, Lynch, what're you doing Thursday night? I'm having a little shindig at the fairgrounds, if you want to come out and play. Assuming you're not too busy with Dick the Third." He made a vaguely obscene gesture with his hand and mouth. 

Ronan looked stonily unamused. "And why the hell would I want to go to one of your parties?" 

"To piss off your daddy. Your actual daddy." 

"What do you care about my dad?  

"Didn't he tell you yet?" Kavinsky asked, looking delighted. "We ran into each other at the gas station, had a nice little chat. Well, nice-ish. I don't think your old man likes me too much."  

Ronan snorted. "Maybe cuz you're a liar." 

"Yeah, well, so's your dad." Kavinsky pulled a leather cord with something attached to it out of his pocket. He swung it around his finger a few times before throwing it to land at Ronan's feet with a little metallic _clink_. Laughing, Kavinsky shouted, "Catch you later, cocksuckers!" before dropping back and down into the driver's seat. A second later the car was gone, speeding back down the way they had come. 

" _God_ ," Ronan snarled, dragging one hand down his face. "Fuck him." 

Adam nodded in silent agreement as he bent down to pick up whatever Kavinsky had thrown at them. Holding the cord up, Adam got a good look at the silver Celtic cross hanging from it. "Hey, Lynch, isn't this—" 

"The fuck," Ronan breathed, snatching the necklace from him. He rubbed his thumb against the cross for a minute then hissed, " _Fuck_ Kavinsky. What's he playing at?" 

Adam guessed that the necklace was indeed like the one Ronan's father always wore. "He couldn't have stolen it, could he?" 

"Not unless my dad dropped it and I've never..." Ronan's voice trailed off. He closed his hand around the cross, squeezing it tight.  

He stood there for so long without saying anything that Adam had to clear his throat, loudly, before saying, "I should be getting home. I gotta work tomorrow morning." 

"Right," Ronan said, but he still sounded deeply distracted. "Right, c'mon." 

They got back in the car. 

*** 

Ronan dropped Adam off at St. Agnes', then headed back to the Barns. When he got home he headed straight down the hall to the kitchen where he found his father emptying the dishwasher. The oven was on, and most of the house smelled like baking bread. Niall was humming to himself as he worked, though when he glanced over and saw Ronan in the doorway he remarked, "Back, are ya?" 

"Yeah." Ronan frowned at him for a second, then he fished in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the necklace. He held it out to his father, letting it hang from two of his fingers. 

Niall glanced over, then did a double take. His brow furrowed and he touched his neck, but there under the collar of his shirt was his own necklace, the cross hidden beneath his undershirt. He took two quick steps over to Ronan and took the necklace from his hand.  

Silence. He looked up at Ronan. Ronan shook his head ever so slightly, then said, "Gas station, huh?" 

Closing his hand around the necklace, Niall touched the tip of his forefinger against Ronan's chest. "I need you," he said, voice dangerous and slow, "to stay the fuck away from Joseph Kavinsky. _Please_." 

*** 

When Ronan arrived at Monmouth Manufacturing on Thursday morning he found a couple surprising things waiting for him in the parking lot: First there was the U-Haul pickup truck and accompanying trailer and boat. Then there was the person leaning against the truck, which was Blue's cousin Orla, dressed in bell-bottoms and a bright orange bikini top. She was leaning in a way to emphasize the miles of deep brown skin visible between the two garments, and when she saw Ronan she smiled and waved. Her nails were painted to match the bikini. 

Ronan ignored her and instead turned his attention to Blue and Gansey, who stood a little ways away and were apparently deep in an argument about something judging by the look on Blue's face. 

"Hey kids," Ronan said, walking over to them. "What's with..." He gestured vaguely at the truck and Orla. 

Blue rounded on him. She was wearing multiple layers of ripped tank tops and a pair of bleached cargo pants. "Your friend," she said, jabbing an accusatory finger in Gansey's direction. "Has absolutely lost his mind." 

"Oh, I see," Ronan said, smirking. "When he does crazy shit he's _my_ friend. When are you going to start accepting a little responsibility around here, Sargent?" 

"He spent the equivalent of my entire year's salary yesterday because he needed some retail therapy!" 

Gansey rubbed the back of his neck. "Now, Jane, you know that's an exaggeration..." 

"How much did the sonar device cost? And the couch? And the pool table?" 

Ronan perked up. "You got a pool table, man? Sweet dea—" 

"Ronan!" Blue snarled. "Stop encouraging him." 

"All of that cost around ten grand," Gansey said. "Which I'm sure is considerably less than you make in a year." 

Blue sniffed. "I wouldn't say _considerably_. You have no idea what minimum wage is, do you?" 

Ronan let them continue with their back and forth, mostly because he didn't have the energy to stop them. Besides Adam had just arrived on his bike, riding up and stopping next to Ronan. He too gave both the boat and Orla a surprised once-over, then turned to Ronan, raising his eyebrows. 

"You'll have to ask Gansey," Ronan said. "Once he's done having his little marital spat with Sargent. Here, let's stick your bike in the truck."  

By the time they had finished with that Gansey and Blue were done arguing, or whatever it was they were actually doing. Running his hand through his hair Gansey explained to the group that he wanted to scan the bottom of the lake they had come across the other day. He sounded distracted, however, at least to Ronan, his gaze going every which way while he talked, hands fidgeting. It was all of that that prompted Ronan to pull him aside as Blue and Orla got into the pickup truck and Adam went to get in the BMW. 

"I haven't been sleeping well," Gansey said, when Ronan gave him a hard look. "It's...to be honest I think it's because of Cabeswater." 

Ronan frowned deeply at him. 

"I just keep thinking what if this is it, what if that was our chance to find Glendower and now it's gone?" Gansey rubbed the back of his head and sighed. "Also my mother's throwing a fundraiser in D.C. this weekend and those things always make me feel inadequate." 

"Yeah, well, _that_ I actually have a solution for," Ronan said with a wry grin. 

Gansey rolled his eyes. "I'm not getting completely wasted at my mother's party, Ronan. Besides Adam's coming, I have to set a good example." 

Ronan froze. "What? Why are you subjecting Parrish to that hell?" 

"Because it's a good opportunity for him," Gansey said. "Networking and getting his name out there and all that. And _some_ people don't find social interaction as hellish as you do." 

"Fine," Ronan nudged him with his elbow. "Abandon me here all on my lonesome." 

Gansey gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Sargent will be here with you. She's a delight." 

"Right," Ronan said, then nodded towards the vehicles. "C'mon, we should get going. I don't wanna be out on that lake in the middle of the afternoon, you know my delicate Irish skin can't take the sun." 

"Hah!" said Gansey. "There's nothing delicate about you, Lynch." 

Ronan clapped one hand to his chest, pretending to look deeply wounded as he trudged back to the BMW to the soft sound of Gansey's laughter. 

*** 

The day started out hot and it only got hotter. By the time the group had finished on the lake, walking away with one ancient and impossible Camaro wheel and one ancient and impossible shield boss, the sun was scorching down from high above and the only two not swealtering were Blue and Orla as they had each taken dips in the lake. Ronan had a splash of red across his cheeks and nose that Adam thought vaguely resembled a blush, assuming you didn't know him too well. 

"So now what?" Ronan said as they all huddled together on dry land, staring down at the wheel and the raven-emblazoned metal circle. 

Blue tried to smooth her hair down. She glanced across at Gansey and Adam. "I should probably hang onto these things this weekend while you two are in D.C. I can get Calla to do her thing on them and report when you get back." 

"That's a good idea," Gansey said. "Ronan could tag along, assuming he doesn't have anything better to do...in the mean time, it looks like you two need to get changed and dried off...Lynch, you okay taking Parrish?" 

Ronan gave him the thumbs up. "Always." 

Adam found himself smiling at that. He went to get his bike out of the truck and transfer it to the back of the BMW. As he and Ronan stood maneuvering it into the trunk he asked, "So you didn't want to go to Gansey's mom's thing?" 

"He didn't ask me." 

"What?" Adam paused, straightening. Then he saw Ronan's smug expression. "Really?" 

Ronan snorted. "Probably because he knew I'd say hell no. C'mon, Parrish, can you really picture me in a suit?" 

"I've seen your dad in a suit; I imagine it would look pretty similar," Adam said, smiling as he went to open the passenger side door. He watched Ronan climb in and start the engine, immediately cranking the air conditioning up. Then, for a moment, Ronan tilted his head back against the headrest, eyes closed. In profile, the curve of his throat was a long, clean line down from his sharp jaw to the dip of his collarbone. Adam found himself staring, more intently than he meant to, until Ronan's head dropped back forward again and he looked up. 

And there was that stare again, that piercing, ravenous stare. Sunlight reflected off of something in the car, hitting the side of Ronan's face and making his eyes look even paler, even less real. It was easy enough to believe in that moment that he was the product of a dream and a dreamer.  

"Parrish?" Ronan said, expression unchanging. 

Adam shook his head, looking down. When Ronan reached for the gear shift, Adam reached out as well, thinking it would be easy enough to cover the gesture by reaching for the stereo. But when their fingers brushed, Ronan did not pull his hand away. Instead he paused, the back of his pinky and ring fingers pressed to the back of Adam's pinky and ring fingers. Adam stared at them, transfixed.  

Then Ronan closed his hand on the gearshift, and Adam switched on the stereo, and they were backing off the grass towards the dirt road. Adam leaned back in his seat. He turned his head just a little to sneak a look at Ronan, and saw that the other boy wore the very smallest hint of a smile on his lips. 

*** 

They made it to St. Agnes' and as Adam was starting to get out of the car he heard Ronan's phone buzz where it rested in the cupholder between the two front seats. He didn't think too much about it until Ronan called, "Parrish, hang on." 

"What?" Adam turned, one knee on the seat as he leaned back into the car. Ronan was staring at his phone with a perplexed, almost worried expression. "Lynch?" 

By way of response, Ronan simply turned his phone so Adam could read the screen: 

_Someone broke into Monmouth. You need to come see this._  

Adam lifted his gaze to Ronan's face. Slowly he got back into the car and pulled the door shut. "Let's go." 

Ronan started the car up again. 

Two minutes later they were hurrying up the steps into the inhabited part of Monmouth Manufacturing. It had indeed been trashed; papers and books were everywhere, boxes opened and overturned, every drawer in Gansey's desk had been yanked out and its contents dumped on the floor. Most tragic was the sight of Gansey's carefully constructed model of Henrietta, which was now in ruins. Whoever had broken in must have not only walked over it, but also kicked and stomped on it with intent to destroy. 

Gansey was bent over, gathering something up off the floor. He straightened, hands full. 

"Hey man, you okay?" Ronan asked, walking over to him. 

"Do you have an idea what the hell these are?" Gansey asked, holding his hands out.  

For a moment Adam thought he had a bunch of business cards, but on closer inspection they were driver's licenses. All of them had Ronan's picture, and his name, and the address of Monmouth, though the birthdates were wildly innacurate. Ronan scowled, taking one from Gansey and turning it over in his hands. Adam peered at it as well; they really were excellent forgeries. Looking around he saw more on the floor and wondered who had time to make several dozen fake IDs just to leave them here. 

"Ronan?" Gansey said. "Did you leave those here?" 

"No," Ronan said. His lips curled. "But I know who did." 

Adam knew who Ronan was thinking without saying it. He shook his head. "Why's Kavinsky going after you so much lately?" 

"Kavinsky?" Gansey said, distaste lacing his words. "You think Kavinsky did this? What did I do to him?" 

Ronan glanced up at him. "You're my friend, that's what you did to him. He doesn't know where I live and he probably figured it wouldn't do much to flip over Parrish's mattress and his one piece of furniture." 

"Thanks," Adam said dryly, poking Ronan a couple times in the ribs. 

"What? Stop." Ronan shot him a look and squirmed away from the poking.  

 Gansey took several careful breaths and patted the air placatingly with both hands. "Okay, so Kavinsky is an asshole and he trashed my stuff to try and get your attention. What do we do about that?" 

"We go tell him to fuck off," Ronan said. "Luckily I know exaclty where he's going to be tonight." 

Adam sighed, quietly, and looked over at Gansey. Gansey looked back, quirking one eyebrow questioningly. In response Adam gave a little shrug and a half grimace, trying to convey a sense of 'I have a bad feeling about this.' 

*** 

To be perfectly fair, the words "Kavinsky" and "party" did not carry the best connotation when used together. Adam had been aware of Kavinsky's infamous substance parties even before he started at Aglionby, because it was not just Aglionby students who attended them. In fact, rumor had it, people from other states would make their way in to attend the raucuous celebrations that somehow went under the radar of the local police.  

As the BMW pulled up to the abandoned fairgrounds, the three boys inside could see that the party was already in full swing. It was all strange lighting and cars and alcohol and the boom of music and the smells of cigarette and pot smoke everywhere, boys and girls alike leaning against vehicles or watching the absolutely explosive game of automotive chicken taking place a little ways away. 

Kavinsky's Evo was easy to pick out with its white paint, though the whole driver's side bore evidence that he had already been participating in the fun and games. Adam saw it and felt a flare of derisive judgement rise up in him; no doubt getting that fixed or even straight out replacing the car would be nothing to someone like Kavinsky.  

And Kavinsky himself leaned against the side of the car, shirtless, drinking from a bottle of something that wasn't beer. He spotted the BMW and let out a great whoop of laughter. "Lynch, babydoll, you made it! And you brought the whole family too, how sweet. Dick Gansey himself—hey, why the long face, man?" 

"I hope I only need to say this once," Gansey said in a cold, calm, collected voice, "Stay the hell out of my place." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kavinsky said, but he was laughing, taking another drink from the bottle before he passed it to someone sitting inside the car.  

"This," said Ronan as he stepped forward. He pulled some of the fake IDs from his pocket and flicked one at Kavinsky's bare chest. "And this. And this. And this." Each time he threw another ID. 

Again Kavinsky laughed. "Oooh is Dick mad that other boys are leaving you presents? How come he isn't pissed about this?" He pointed with two fingers at Adam and Ronan, then he winked and leaned in Adam's general direction saying, "Suppose you're pretty used to sloppy seconds, huh?" 

Ronan punched Kavinksy and without much difficulty lobbed him clean over the hood of the Mitsubishi. Kavinsky popped right back up again, nose bleeding and leer turning dangerous. Ronan pointed a threatening finger at him. "He's pissed because you trashed his fucking house!" 

"'House' might be a bit generous there, Princess," Kavinksy retorted, turning to spit a few flecks of blood onto the dusty ground. "Besides I really _don't_ know what you're talking about. I never set foot in the place." 

"You're a fucking liar." 

"Yeah, usually." Kavinksy held up his hands. "But for once I didn't want you to come here for a fight, Lynch, I have an offer for you." 

That shut Ronan up. He gazed skeptically at him. "An offer?" 

Brushing dirt off of himself Kavinsky began to say in a half sing-song tone, " _One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small, but the ones that_ Daddy _gives you don't do anything at all.._.Capice?" 

"...What?" Ronan stared at him blankly. 

" _Come_! _On_!" Kavinsky said, obviously irritated by Ronan's lack of comprehension. "You haven't figured it out yet? Jeeee _sus_. You're even dumber than you look, you pansy Irish fuck." 

Gansey was looking close to his limit of obnoxiousness for the night. "Kavinsky what the hell are you talking about?" 

"Not talking to you, Dick!" Kavinsky said, holding his hand up. To Ronan he said, "You showed your dad what I gave you the other night didn't you? What'd he say?" 

"He said I shouldn't fucking go near you ever again," Ronan said.  

"Aaaand that sounds like a great plan to me," Gansey said. He grabbed for Ronan's arm. "Come on, Lynch. This was a bad idea, we're not going to get anywhere with him... _Ronan_." Because Ronan was not moving, even when Gansey pulled on his arm. He just stood there, staring at Kavinsky with his eyes narrowed.  

Adam sighed loudly and stepped up on Ronan's other side. He closed his hand around Ronan's wrist, and could feel his pulse pounding against his thumb. The look on Ronan's face was somewhere between the expression he wore while they were racing, and the one he wore when he and Adam had gotten back into the car earlier that day, after the lake. Vicious hunger and delight all in one.  

"Ronan," Adam said, stepping closer. His fingers slipped down a little and he didn't even notice that he was all but holding Ronan's hand at this point. Very quietly he said, "Don't be an idiot. Let's just go. He _wants_ you to do something stupid." 

"Yeah," Ronan breathed, finally. His lips curled back into a wide, sharp sneer and he tugged his hand out of Adam's grasp to flip Kavinsky off. "Yeah I think he does." 

Kavinsky shook his head in disgust. His smile was gone now. "Take some time to figure this out, Lynch. Think long and hard and then come back to me." 

Gansey had already started back to the BMW, but Adam was still at Ronan's side. And he was still watching Ronan's face, which meant that he did not miss the knowing smile Ronan shot Kavinsky before turning his back. It was not a smile Adam particularly wanted to see, but apparently Kavinsky did because he let out another delighted whoop. 

Adam and Ronan went to join Gansey at the side of the BMW a few yards away.  

When he reached the passenger side, Adam paused and looked back over his shoulder. He saw with an unpleasant jolt that Kavinsky was looking at him—right at him—and there was a furious, predatory glint in his eye. Then his lips curled back in what was more of a sneer than a smile. He raised one hand, forefinger extended and thumb straight up. " _Bang, bang, motherfucker_ ," he mouthed, slowly and clearly while flicking his thumb.  

Adam quickly looked away. 

*** 

They did not talk on the way back to Monmouth to drop off Gansey. They did not talk the short ride from Monmouth to St. Agnes' either, though when Ronan pulled up behind the church and put the car in park, Adam did not move to get out. Instead he sat absently tapping his fingers on the dashboard and staring out the windshield. 

"You did know what Kavinsky meant, didn't you?" he asked after a moment. 

"When are you leaving for D.C.?" Ronan asked.  

Adam frowned. "Uh, tomorrow. Are you going to answer my question?" 

"Wasn't really planning on it." 

That probably meant he _did_ know what Kavinsky had been referring to, but Adam very much doubted he would get a straight answer out of Ronan. Not tonight, at any rate. The other boy might not lie but that didn't mean he wouldn't _avoid_ the truth if he didn't really want to say it. And on that line of thought, there was something else Adam had sussed out that day. Turning in his seat he said, "I thought you didn't want to go to D.C." 

"I don't." Ronan flashed him a short, unreadable look. "I'm kinda surprised you and Gansey do." 

"How's that?" 

Ronan shrugged. He ran his hands around the circumference of the steering wheel. "All this Cabeswater shit. You've both been acting weird as fuck lately. I didn't think you needed anything else to stress you out." 

At any other time Adam would have felt flattered to learn that Ronan paid close enough attention to him to notice when he was stressed out. And maybe he was a little pleased to find that out, but still... "There's a _lot_ going on right now. Not just Cabeswater. I dunno. Guess I thought maybe getting away from it all for a bit would be good for me." 

"Am I part of 'it all?'" Ronan asked, seemingly out of nowhere. He wasn't looking at Adam. He was still looking down at the steering wheel. 

Something about the way he asked made Adam's breath catch in his throat. Maybe it was the creeping realization that Ronan was _really_ asking something else entirely. It was so desperately unlike Ronan to ask a question like that, though, and so desperately unlike Adam to answer a question like that, and all he could do was sit there and stare at Ronan. 

Outside the car nighttime insects chirped. The air felt soft and still. After a moment, Ronan's hands slipped from the steering wheel into his lap. He undid his seatbelt and turned his whole body to face Adam, his gaze intent. "Well?" he said. "Am I?" 

"Yes," Adam said. Admitting it suddenly made the air in the car ten times thicker. Adam's heart was pounding again. _This is it_ , a little voice in the back of his mind whispered. _This is you not wanting to try and win Blue back. This is you hanging on and letting yourself be carried along instead of getting out of the car_ _._  

Ronan leaned towards him, moving one hand to the back of Adam's seat. "Tell me if you don't want me to do this, Parrish," he said quietly.  

"I..." Adam began, because with the air so thick it was hard to find the right words. "I do want..." 

Ronan's hand came up to rest on the back of Adam's neck, pulling him a little closer.  

His lips felt soft against Adam's and for a moment Adam thought he could simply dissolve into those few seconds of their first kiss, when it was still timid and curious and his own hands ended up hovering awkwardly because he didn't know if it was okay to touch Ronan or not. 

The minute he did touch Ronan, however, fingers resting on either side of his waist, the kiss (or kisses?) went from tentative to desperate, Ronan turning his head to the side so their lips fit together, his fingers curling in Adam's hair...then all at once he jerked back, breathing heavily. Adam felt torn between disappointment and relief. 

He drew his hands back, pressing his fist to his closed lips, then unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for the door. "I'll, ah, I'll see you when I get back, okay?" 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ronan's shoulders slump. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah. Have a good time." 

Nodding, mostly to himself, Adam got out of the car. The minute he closed the door Ronan threw the car into reverse, turning to careen out of the parkinglot. In the silence that followed, Adam touched his lips again. 

This was going to be a long weekend. 


	10. Chapter 10

On Friday morning Adam and Gansey were set to leave for D.C., courtesy of Gansey's sister Helen, who picked them up right from the Monmouth parking lot in her helicopter. Ronan and Blue showed up to see them off, quite literally: the pair of them lay back on the hood of Ronan's BMW to watch the others as they rose steadily into the clear summer sky. Blue waved enthusiastically; Ronan kept his arms folded behind his head, looking considerably less enthusiastic.

And then the helicopter was gone, and so were Adam and Gansey, for a whole three days.

Sitting up and crossing her legs, Blue looked down at Ronan. "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" Ronan sat up as well but he got to his feet, standing in front of the car and stretching. "I'm fine, Maggot. Why?"

Blue shrugged, peering at him with her head tilted to the side. She did not mention that Ronan had been unusually quiet all morning, or that she had seen how he and Adam had avoided looking at each other. Still, forcing Ronan Lynch to talk about anything would have been about as easy as eating the BMW she sat on for breakfast, so instead she grinned and asked, "So what are we doing today?"

Ronan raised an eyebrow at her. "Well I dunno about you …"

"I have the day off of work so I will stand by my question," Blue said.

***

Fifteen minutes later Blue wished that she hadn't.

After driving them out past the Henrietta city limits, Ronan turned the car down a drive that wound its way through a development of tackily grandiose vinyl-sided McMansions. Turning to look out the window Blue curled her lip a little as she tried to imagine living in a place like this; all the houses looked simultaneously very expensive and very fake.

"The people who live in places like this are the kind who wear t-shirts that say 'Namaste, Bitch' and would participate in The Purge," Blue said.

Ronan snorted loudly, bobbing his head in agreement—then he pulled the BMW into a driveway that was already occupied by a white Mitsubishi Evo.

Blue groaned. " _Ronan_. You have _got_ to be kidding me. What are we doing here?"

"I just have to drop something off," Ronan said. He turned off the car then swiveled in his seat to retrieve a paper grocery bag from the backseat. "You don't have to come in if you don't want to."

But Blue was already reaching for the door handle. "Gansey told me what happened last night. If you think I'm letting you go talk to Joseph Kavinsky by yourself…"

"And what're you gonna do, exactly?" Ronan asked as they got out of the car.

"Bite your kneecaps until you stop doing whatever it is," Blue said. "Kick Kavinsky's ass. I bet I could, he doesn't strike me as the kind of person who actually knows how to fist fight." 

Ronan raised his eyebrows. "Neither do you."

"I'm very tough," Blue said, holding her fists up.

"God." Ronan rolled his eyes. "Come over some weekend and I'll get my dad to show you how to actually throw a punch, now c'mon let's just get this over with."

Getting out of the car, he led the way around the side of the house to a backyard mostly dominated by an in-ground pool and large deck. Music was playing from a portable speaker atop a patio table, and Joseph Kavinsky lounged on one of the poolside chairs. As Blue and Ronan appeared he lifted his sunglasses and stared at them then slowly sat up.

Ronan took in the other boy's blown pupils and the way his fingers drummed on the arm of the chair. "Jesus, man, it's not even afternoon yet."

"It's afternoon somewhere, Princess," Kavinsky said, flashing his teeth in a broad grin as he let his sunglasses fall back into place. "That's a surprisingly hetero-looking partner you've got there."

"Sargent's my muscle, she's here to kick your ass if you don't play nice." Ronan walked right over to the chair, looming over Kavinsky for a minute with the grocery bag still held in the crook of one arm. Then, without explanation he turned the bag over; a cascade of white-framed sunglasses poured out into Kavinsky's lap. Most of them were identical to the ones Kavinsky currently wore, or mostly identical at least. A closer inspection would reveal slight variances in the shade of the lenses or the style of frames, a few were more cream colored than white but all in all Ronan thought he had done a pretty damn good job.

Kavinsky did too, apparently. He pushed his own glasses up into his hair and grabbed a few pairs from the pile in his lap, looking them over before dropping them again. "Well, well, well…" he said slowly.

Blue stared at Ronan. When he glanced back at her she mouthed, _What the fuck…?_

Ronan just grinned. Blue did not like that grin. It was probably the sort of look Gansey would expect her to tell him about.

"Gold fucking star for you, babydoll," Kavinsky said, standing up and sending half of the glasses cascading to the floor. "You finally figured it out."

"I figured it out a while ago," Ronan said, watching him. "You can take things out of your dreams too."

Kavinsky looked delighted. Blue also did not like _that_ look; there was something deeply unsettling about the way he watched Ronan like he wanted to devour him entirely. Trying to look as intimidating as possible, Blue edged a little closer to him.

"Though this little display tells me something," Kavinsky said, gesturing at the glasses. "I'm a hell of a lot better at crafting than you are, Lynch. And _that_ means your old man hasn't taught you shit."

Ronan's eyes flashed. "Why do you think my dad has anything to do with this?"

"Because _I'm_ not the fucking idiot around here," Kavinsky said. "Like father like son. I know you, and you know me, and I don't think he told you to stay away from me because he's worried about you indulging in any of my other vices."

"He probably told me to stay away from you because you're a bastard," Ronan said, dryly. "What do you want?"

Kavinsky put one hand to his chest, then spread his arms. "I'm here to make you an offer, Princess. One you won't refuse if you're smart."

Ronan's lip curled. "Oh yeah."

"Oh… _yeah_ …" Kavinsky said. He stepped closer to Ronan. "I'll teach you, Lynch. I'll teach you how to be a dream thief. We're two of a kind, after all, the only ones in this godforsaken shitstack of a town who aren't gonna waste this _gift_. Me and you. This is your chance to make something of yourself, man. Something _amazing_. Fuck what your dad says; he's a fucking coward and you know it. Where do you think I get all my shit from? I'm a goddamn dream master!"

"And what are you gonna want from me in return?"

"Nothing!"

"Yet," Ronan said. If the idea of letting Joseph Kavinsky teach him anything wasn't setting off enough warning bells in his head, he knew how this boy worked. Nothing was free, nothing was offered without an ulterior motive. Ronan made a dismissive flicking motion with his fingers. "I'm not interested. I just wanted _you_ to know that _I_ know what you're playing at."

Kavinsky's smirk dropped several degrees in temperature. "Whatever," he said. "You'll be back, Lynch. I said it last night, didn't I? And here you are, driving all the way out to my house. That tells me something. My offer stands, so sleep on it, give it some thought, I'll be waiting." His gaze slid over to Blue then and he seemed to focus on her for the first time, looking her over and sizing her up. The smile he gave her was positively lascivious. "And _you_ sweetheart, you can come back anytime. I wouldn't mind teaching you a few things too."

Blue held up both middle fingers at him, which just made Kavinsky laugh. Pursing her lips, Blue reached for Ronan's arm. "Lynch, come on, we're wasting our time here." Then, to Kavinsky she added, "And you, _sweetheart_. I feel sorry for you. There's one reason why boys like you act the way you do and that's because deep down you know you are just sad and pathetic."

"Call me," Kavinsky said to Ronan, "if you get bored with playing Barbies with manic-pixie-dream-bitch here." He turned around and started towards the sliding doors that lead into the house.

"Manic pixie dream bitch," Blue said slowly. She pondered it for a moment then nodded. "I like it."

***

It was right around noon by the time they got back to Henrietta, so they stopped at the drug store to get tuna fish sandwiches. Blue realized that this was probably the longest she had ever spent with Ronan when it was just the two of them and she might have thoroughly enjoyed it if he wasn't very clearly distracted by a handful of other things that he wasn't sharing. She wondered how much of it had to do with Gansey being gone for the weekend; Ronan Lynch might give off as much of a lone wolf vibe as he could possibly manage, but Blue was starting to realize he didn't _actually_ like to be by himself. That was probably the only reason he was tolerating her presence.

They were just finishing their sandwiches, sitting atop a picnic bench in the park, when Ronan's phone went off, disrupting the otherwise calm afternoon with the energetic thrumming of the Dropkick Murphy's.

Ronan rolled his eyes and held his phone to his ear. "Hey, Dad, what's up?...no I'm hanging out with Sargent…uh-hu— _what_? No! Jesus, I'm not asking her that—wait. _Oh_. Okay." He held the phone away from his ear and looked at Blue. "Hey, Maggot, do you and your multiple moms want some organic honey?"

"Random," Blue said, stifling a laugh. "Is it local?"

"Fucking…" Ronan sighed, then said into the phone, "Is it local?...Yes, Sargent, it's local."

"Then yes we do," Blue said, laughing. "Tell him thank you."

Rolling his eyes, Ronan relayed the message to his father then hung up and returned the phone to his pocket. "C'mon he said he'll meet us at your place in fifteen minutes."

***

The two of them made it to 300 Fox Way before Niall did, and found Maura Sargent in the kitchen doing something with bundles of dried plants. She seemed to be in an unfairly good mood, which Blue explained probably had to do with the fact that she had been on a real, honest-to-god date the previous night and now suddenly everything was sunshine and roses. The two teens plopped themselves down at the kitchen table.

Niall arrived in exactly the length of time it took Blue to finish a container of yogurt. He had with him several large mason jars of honey, which Maura thanked him profusely for before offering him a cup of tea.

"Mom," Blue said. "Mr. Lynch is Irish. Like, _actually from Ireland_ Irish. Nothing in this kitchen qualifies as real tea."

In response to that Maura opened a cabinet and gestured emphatically at a tin of Earl Grey. Blue shrugged and Niall laughed.

"And what've you two been up to all day?" he asked Ronan and Blue. "Anything unsavory?"

Blue nodded solemnly. "Always. Your son's a very bad influence on me."

"He's a bad influence on me too," Niall said.

Ronan scowled. "Thanks. Both of you."

The doorbell rang. They all paused until the heard footsteps that indicated one of the other residents of the house was going to answer it.

Maura caught Niall's eye and tapped the tea tin. "Yea or nay?"

The sound of footsteps again, this time they were coming down the hall towards the kitchen. Blue glanced up and raised her eyebrows when the Grey Man appeared in the kitchen door. He paused, lingering, his gaze on Niall Lynch. There was something less than pleased about his expression, and Blue took it as a side effect of seeing a strange man speaking to the woman he had just taken out for dinner.

"Mr. Grey," Blue said. "Don't worry, that's just Ronan's dad."

Niall glanced up, and his face did something funny too when he saw the Grey Man. He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing just a little.

"Oh!" Maura at least looked unabashedly delighted. "Mr. Grey! I wasn't expecting—come in I was just going to make some tea. This is Niall Lynch, by the way, Niall this is Mr. Grey…"

Niall stepped forward to shake the Grey Man's hand, though his expression remained curious. "I've seen you around, if I'm not mistaken…”

"Yes, the other day at the drugstore," said the Grey Man. "Definitely. Hard to forget that accent."

Niall nodded. "You're not from around here yourself, are ya? What brings you to Henrietta?"

"Work, I'm just here on business," Mr. Grey replied.

"Also the nightlife," Maura said.

Blue rolled her eyes, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was…not quite right. Then she saw it; the minute Niall Lynch looked away, the Grey Man's attention focused on him with the same wariness of one feral cat watching another. Blue was struck with the sudden and inexplicable certainty that the Grey Man _knew_ Ronan's father somehow, and that his feelings about him were considerably less than pleasant.

Then Niall asked, "So what sort of business are you in?"

"Private contracting," said Mr. Grey, slowly.

"He's a hitman," said Maura, sounding deeply amused.

Any trace of innocent curiosity vanished from Niall Lynch's face. He did not move from where he stood leaning back against the counter, but he did fold his arms slowly. "A hit…man…" he said, saying it like two strange, unfamiliar words.

In that split second Blue knew without any question that something _was_ wrong. Deeply wrong. It was like watching a car careening around a corner and knowing it would hit the pedestrian not paying attention as they stepped into the road. It was the bare fraction of a second after breaking a bone before your brain caught up and the pain set in.

Mr. Grey took a step away from Niall Lynch.

Maura looked up, having sensed the sudden change of atmosphere in the room.

Ronan frowned, leaning forward a little.

Blue also realized that she recognized the look on Niall Lynch's face; it was the exact same venomous sneer that Ronan used on Kavinsky, a look that expressed every level of deep, unadulterated loathing.

"And what business," Niall said slowly, "would bring a hitman to a place like this?"

Mr. Grey's eyes flicked first to the door to the hall, then to the door that led outside. He did not answer.

Fast as anything, Niall's hand shot out and he grabbed Mr. Grey roughly by the front of his shirt. "Oh let's stop playin' games, shall we?" he said, his voice a low snarl.

"Careful," Mr. Grey said. He reached up, trying to get the other man to let go of his shirt, but Niall held on and took a step closer.

"Oh," Niall murmured, shaking his head. "Just say it, you bastard, give me a _fucking_ excuse."

Maura took a half step towards them, trying to sound angry but it mostly just came out frightened, " _What_ is going on?!"

Mr. Grey ignored her. So did Niall. They continued to stare at each other for four seconds before the Grey Man finally nodded and said, "We're doing this? Fine...Yes, I work for Greenmantle."

The gravity with which he said it implied that he was expecting some sort of reaction from Niall Lynch. And maybe Niall's lack of a reaction was the reaction. His hand gripped a little tighter at the Grey Man's shirt, and he brought his other hand up, pointing two fingers at him. It was Niall's voice that gave him away, in two words conveying all the pain and fury he had building inside of him. "My son…" he began, speaking through clenched teeth.

Mr. Grey said nothing.

"Did you kill my son?!" Niall hissed.

Maura Sargent put both of her hands over her mouth. Without really thinking about it Blue reached over and grabbed ahold of Ronan's arm, but he was just sitting there, hands fisted in his lap, his expression blank.

Mr. Grey was silent for another second before he said quietly, "Yes. I killed your son."

The crash of Niall Lynch slamming the Grey Man into the refrigerator could no doubt be heard throughout the rest of the house. Mr. Grey was not fighting back, even as Niall drove his fist into his gut, then hurled him sideways against the counter. Mr. Grey doubled over, his arm around his middle, but Niall grabbed him by the collar and dragged him upright.

"Declan was a child!" Niall snarled. "I've met meaner fucks than you in Belfast and New York and Boston who would never dream of doing what you did to my son! _He was just a child_ and you beat him to death and left his body on our front walk!"

Blue felt dizzy and for a moment utterly helpless. She looked to her mother and saw that Maura was completely paralyzed, hands still over her mouth, eyes wide and shining with confused, unshed tears. Ronan had not moved from where he sat, but the expression he wore terrified her completely.

She got to her feet and stepped into the hall, calling desperately for the first name that popped into her head— " _CALLA_?!"

Behind her the Grey Man was saying with surprising calm, "This is my job. Greenmantle gave the order, I carried it out."

Another thud as Niall slammed the Grey Man's head against the cabinet then let go, letting him slid to the floor. "That's no fucking excuse!" Niall snarled. "That does not fucking absolve you of the fact that you _murdered my child_!"

"What the hell is going on in here?!" Calla bellowed as she stormed into the room, pushing Blue out of the way and partly behind her.

The only one to react to her appearance was Maura, who motioned to Calla frantically. The two men were fighting again, or rather Niall had launched himself at Mr. Grey again, and Mr. Grey was doing nothing to fend him off. Jaw clenched, Calla strode over to them and grabbed Niall by the arms, hauling him back with a surprising show of brute strength.

"ENOUGH!" she snarled.

For a moment Niall's eyes were wild, burning and icy cold at the same time. Then the tension visibly left his form. When Calla finally let go of his arms he held up his hands and said simply, "I'm goin'," before he walked out of the room. A second later the front door slammed.

Calla rounded on the Grey Man. "I think you should go too," she said stiffly.

Mr. Grey touched the bruise blooming on his cheek. He nodded, but looked to Maura, something complicated and painful showing in his eyes. "Maura…" he started.

She shook her head. "Please just go."

And so he went, out the back door, and the kitchen was once again silent.

All eyes turned to Ronan, still sitting at the table. He determinedly did not look at any of them, and after a moment he got to his feet and turned to leave. Blue followed, reaching out to try and grab his arm.

"Ronan…"

"What?" he said coldly.

Blue bit her lip. "I'm—"

"You're _what_ , Sargent?" Ronan said. "You're sorry? You're sorry your mom's fucking the man who killed my brother?"

"Excuse me?" Blue said. "Don't you dare act like this is in any imaginable way my mom's fault, Ronan. Look, I know that this is really, really shitty but…"

"No," Ronan snapped. "You don't fucking know, Sargent. There's no way any of you fucking know." He turned on heel then and stalked off the way his father had gone, out the front door with a bang.

Blue watched him, wanting so badly to be mad at him but instead all she could feel was worry.

***

Ronan did not get home until late. He didn't do anything; he just spent the day driving around the area, getting lost on winding back country roads, breaking every speed limit imaginable, and eventually he found his way back to the Barns. Pulling into the driveway, he saw that his father's car was conspicuously not there.

He parked and went inside. Matthew was in the living room, but he switched off whatever game he was playing and got to his feet when Ronan came through the front door.

"Hey, pal, are you okay?" Matthew asked, his baby blue eyes wide and concerned.

Ronan glanced at his little brother, trying to tell if he knew what had happened that day or if he just knew something was wrong. Ronan shrugged. "Is Mom in the kitchen?"

Matthew nodded, so Ronan went through to the kitchen. Aurora was setting the table for dinner, her movements automatic as she put out four plates, four sets of silverware, checked whatever was cooking in the oven, then paused and looked up at Ronan.

"Oh," she said, her brow knitting. "Sweetheart. Are you...?"

"Has Dad been home at all?" Ronan asked.

Aurora nodded.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know, Ronan," Aurora said softly. She returned to her task, getting glasses from the cupboard next to the sink. "He was very upset."

Ronan walked over. "Did he tell you what happened?"

Now his mother didn't reply. She pursed her lips, looking down at the cup she held in both hands. The expression on her face was enough to tell Ronan that yes, his father had told her what happened. It was also such a sad expression that Ronan walked over and wrapped his arms around her because seeing Aurora Lynch sad was unbearable.

"Oh, Ronan," she breathed, returning the hug then patting his back. "I'll be all right."

He drew back. "I'm going to bed."

"Aren't you hungry?" Aurora asked, concern peeking through the sorrow in her gaze.

Ronan just shook his head, turned, and headed upstairs.


	11. Chapter 11

Night at the Barns was all-encompassing; the deepest, most velvety darkness imaginable except for the vast wash of stars in the sky and the flashing of lightning bugs. Insects chirped lazily in the tall grass and the nocturnal rustling of unseen animals provided a backdrop to the sleeping farm that in the day was bursting with life.  

It was very, very late. 

Niall sat on the back steps of the house, picking at the label of the bottle in his hands. The top step was digging into his lower back, and the cool moisture that had gathered on the grass soaked into the hems of his trouser legs but he didn't move, not even when behind him the screen door opened and shut. He knew it was Aurora, because the boys were in bed already and neither of them stepped that lightly.  

His wife sat down next to him. Niall glanced at her. Even in the usually unflattering glow of the porch light she looked ethereal and soft and achingly perfect. 

"My beauty, my light," Niall said finally. He took a final swig from the bottle and set it behind him on the porch, then turned to wrap his arms around Aurora. She smiled and leaned into the embrace, her head resting on his shoulder. They sat like that for a minute then Niall said, "Rora?" 

She lifted her head. "Hmm?" 

"Are you happy? Is this what you want?" 

"What?" Aurora smiled disbelievingly. "Of course it is. Of course I am." 

Niall studied her face, but Aurora did not lie. Aurora probably could not lie.  

"I would give anything to have Declan back," Aurora continued, softer. She reached up, brushing Niall's hair behind his ear and then pressed a kiss to his cheek. "But sometimes there are things we cannot change, and simply have to deal with. And you, my darling husband...I love you more than anything." 

At that Niall managed a sad smile. "I love you too, my angel."  

She had been the first person to say those words to him, and he would never tire of hearing them. 

*** 

_y_ _o K. - fine, you wanna do this? Meet me @ Monmouth. 8pm._   

_princess,_ _i_ _'m_ _touched._ _thought you'd never ask._  

*** 

Two days later, Richard Gansey III sat in his parents' house with a strained expression on his face. He was not having a good weekend. In fact, as far as weekends went this one had taken a spectacular nosedive into pure disaster. It was Sunday morning and somehow in the space of time since he and Adam had left Blue and Ronan in Henrietta on Friday, several things had gone very wrong. Several things that Gansey had no idea how to fix, which made it even worse.  

He did not know what to do about Adam. Even though they had found him again after he went missing, something was very clearly _not right_  with him.  

He did not know what to do about the fact that Ronan had, it seemed, totalled the Pig. That was just as baffling to Gansey as Adam's disappearance; Ronan was wild and thoughtless sometimes, but to steal _his_ car and wreck it and then, apparently, spend the night at Joseph Kavinsky's was a whole other level. 

In his hand, his phone began to buzz. Gansey looked down, and his stomach did another somersault. It was Ronan's father. 

"Mr. Lynch, hello," he said, holding the phone to his ear. His mouth felt dry. He could hear faint voices in the background, and what sounded like traffic. 

"Gansey." Niall sounded like he was trying very hard _not_ to sound exhausted. "Have you heard from Ronan?" 

Gansey worried his lower lip with his thumb. He pressed the edge of his nail into his skin. "Yes, actually. He texted me this morning." 

"And? Where the hell is he?" 

Ronan wrecked the Pig. Ronan _wrecked_ the Pig. Gansey squeezed his eyes shut. "He's...well, he's...with Joseph Kavinsky." 

Niall swore under his breath. "Doing _what_?" 

"Well..." _Destroying my car. Destroying himself_. Another thought cut into Gansey's mind then. "Sir, did something happen?" 

There was a long pause, then, "Yes. But, I, ah, I have to go. Thank you, Gansey." 

Gansey returned the phone to his pocket then put both hands over his face.  

Ronan. Adam. The Pig. Cabeswater.  

What was _happening_? 

*** 

Niall hung up from his conversation with Gansey and got to his feet. He had been standing on the stretch of sidewalk between St. Agnes' and the parking lot. From around the corner of the church he could hear the voices of the people gathered in front, talking after mass. Niall rubbed the back of his neck, wondering what to do about Ronan. His gaze drifted across the small parking lot to where his BMW was parked. 

Someone was standing by it.  

Before he gave himself a chance to see who it was Niall was already walking over, bristling, ready for a fight. But the figure was not either of the people he had assumed; it was Maura Sargent. Her face did something strange when she saw him, twisting into an expression Niall could not quite identify. 

"Ms. Sargent," he said, schooling his own face back several notches. He noticed the slight tensing of her jaw and he said, "I haven't got a problem with _you_ and I'd like to keep it that way so I hope whatever you're about to say has been well thought over." 

She pursed her lips at him. "Has anyone ever told you that you're an asshole?" 

"Plenty." Niall folded his arms over his chest. "But the fact remains that you're dating the man who killed my son, I wouldn't start throwing stones if I were you." 

"Give me a little credit here," Maura said. "I came to warn you about something." 

Niall frowned.  

"He knows _what_ Ronan is." 

Niall frowned even deeper. He took a step closer to Maura. "Excuse me?" 

"Mr. Grey." Maura paused, glancing around them though they were completely alone in the parking lot. "He knows what Ronan can do. He knows that he can pull things from his dreams. He saw him with another boy who can do the same thing." 

So Niall had been right about Kavinsky. He rubbed his jaw, then froze. "Wait he—" 

"He left them alone," Maura said. "He told me, and he said he can't give them to his boss. But I can't promise he _won't_  change his mind because obviously I don't know him as well as I thought I did." There was something bitter and sad in her voice.  

Maybe if Niall was a better person he would offer her some words of comfort, but right now he didn't think he owed her anything, so all he said was, "Did he say where they were?"  

Maura shook her head. She brushed a few stray strands of hair back from her face, then said quietly, "Blue and Ronan are friends, but even if they weren't...I'm a parent too. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose Blue. And I can only begin to imagine what I would do to someone if I found out they had taken her from me. I don't think I have any right to tell you what you should or shouldn't do..." 

"But you're a psychic," Niall said, icily. "That's what you do, isn't it? Tell people what they should or shouldn't do." 

Her gaze drifted past him up towards the church steeple rising against the pale blue summer sky. She sighed and pursed her lips. "You make it very difficult to help you," she said.  

"I've got plenty of reason for that. If I need your help, I'll make an appointment," Niall said. "I appreciate the warning as it is, but I have got this under control." 

"All right," she said, giving him a deeply bemused look. "I really hope you're not wrong about that." Turning, she edged between the cars and started back towards the sidewalk. 

Niall watched her go. He could hear Matthew calling to him but he didn't turn, not until he felt Aurora's hand lightly touch his back. And when he did turn, it was with a bright, convincing smile. 

*** 

Ronan thought he might still be dreaming when he parked the car in the driveway of the Barns late Sunday night. But this was real, this was home, home again after a weekend that felt like eternity.  

But he had done it. He had taken an exact replica of the Pig from his dreams, and it was now sitting in the Monmouth Manufacturing parking lot, exactly where Gansey had left the real Pig, the one Ronan had wrecked. It was amazing. In two days he had learned more about his dreaming ability than his father had taught him in his entire life.  

He realized he had been sitting in his car for a good three minutes without getting out. Giving himself a shake, Ronan opened the door and walked as quietly as possible from the car to the front door, then just as quietly slipped into the house. He glanced to his left at the archway that led into the living room; dark. Everyone must be in bed. Maybe it was later than he had thought.  

He made it to the bottom of the stairs and had just closed his hand around the bannister when someone cleared their throat. 

"Ronan." His father stood in the hallway just outside the door to the study. The single lamp glowing on the table next to Niall threw his face into stark shadow, making him look both older than he was and more tired. When Ronan looked at him he spread his hands, palms upward, eyebrows raised. 

"You can't blame me for not wanting to be here," Ronan said. He gripped the bannister tighter and leaned back, watching the tendons in his arm flex. He raised his other hand to rub the back of his head.  

"The man who murdered your brother is running around— _you_ cannot just run off like this for two days," Niall said in a furious stage whisper, as though afraid he would wake Matthew (who slept like a rock) or Aurora (who, regardless of noise level, would be awake if Niall was upset). "He saw you, you know. The Grey Man. Maura Sargent was decent enough to warn me that he had seen you and that boy dreaming. But do you know what that means?" 

Ronan did not answer, he was tracing his fingertips over the carved pattern in the wood  of the bannister's end post.  

"It means," Niall said, walking over to stand next to Ronan, "that he could decide to tell Greenmantle at any minute and—are you even listenin' to me?" 

"I dreamed a car," Ronan said. He let out a short, quiet laugh. "Dad I dreamed a perfect...Camaro...just like Gansey's. He wouldn't be able to tell the difference." He paused. "But I have to tell him." 

Niall stared at him for a minute, then grabbed his shoulder. "Look at me. Are you _drunk_?!" 

"No," Ronan said, trying to tug out of his grip. 

His father's face was quickly sinking from anger into disappointment, though for Niall the two weren't all that far apart. After another few seconds of staring at his son in disbelief he said, "Christ, Ronan... _C_ _hrist_. What did you take?" 

Ronan shrugged.  

"Right, then you're going to sleep this off—I can't believe you drove home stoned out of your mind, what the hell's the matter with you?" Niall said, taking Ronan's arm and steering him forcefully up the stairs. "That's beyond stupid, that's dangerous, Ronan. Are you _trying_ to kill yourself?" It took him half a second to realize what he had said, and then when he spoke next his voice was quiet. "Ronan..." 

"I'm not trying to kill myself, Dad, Jesus." Ronan took two steps into his room. "I'm going to bed. Bye." He walked over and flopped face first onto his bed, pausing to kick his shoes off. He was vaguely aware of his father still standing in the doorway, but Ronan was pointedly ignoring him.  

After a moment he heard his father's footsteps moving off down the hall, and the slight creak of his parents' bedroom door. Ronan continued to lie on his bed, listening to his own breathing. Sleep danced at the corners of his mind, and he must have slipped into it for at least a few minutes because he woke abruptly when someone lightly rested a hand on his shoulder. 

"Ronan," his mother said softly. "Sweetheart, can you sit up and drink some water?" 

He sat up and took the cup she handed him.  

Aurora watched him drink. When he set the cup down again she reached out and felt his cheeks. "You can't do things like this, Ronan," she murmured. "You can't." 

"Dad wouldn't teach me," Ronan said. "Kavinsky did." 

His mother just sighed and shook her head slowly, never breaking eye contact. 

The pills Kavinsky had given Ronan must have finally started to wear off because he felt a little flare of mental clarity. He stared at Aurora. "Mom, _you_ came out of a dream." 

"Yes, I know that," she said. "And your father has dreamed many beautiful and wondrous things, my darling, but people get jealous of beautiful things and of power. It got him into a lot of trouble and—" 

"Maybe he got into trouble because he can be an asshole." 

Aurora sighed heavily. She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. "You are very much your father's son. Now you should sleep." She stood, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "Sleep," she said again, before turning to walk from the room. 

Ronan lay back down. He felt sick and frustrated and ashamed, though he was not as much aware of that last one. 

He closed his eyes. 

His mind felt so loud. 

He wished Adam was there. 


	12. Chapter 12

On Sunday evening Adam drove to 300 Fox Way. He had wanted to go to the Barns, to talk to Ronan, but when he'd called there Mrs. Lynch told him apologetically that Ronan wasn't allowed to have visitors at the moment and that he should call back the next day, and Ronan _might_ be available then. Adam's heart had sunk; he didn't ask why Ronan was in trouble. So instead he went to see Blue. 

When Blue answered the door she looked surprised, but pleased to see him. "Oh, hey Adam." 

"Hey," Adam said. "Are you busy? I need to ask Persephone about something." 

Blue shook her head and they went into the house, which was considerably more still and quiet than Adam had ever seen it. Blue led the way into the kitchen and they sat down at the table. She was both chewing her lip and trying to look casual. Adam sat straight backed with his hands in his lap. 

"D'you know what Ronan did this weekend?" he asked. 

"No, what?" 

Adam shook his head. "I was asking _you_. I tried calling his house and his mom told me he's grounded or something." 

"Oh. _Oh_." Blue's expression became deeply uncomfortable. "Well, I don't know what he did but..." She trailed off, looking to the side and taking a deep breath. "Him and his dad were over here on Friday and...and Mr. Grey came by to see Mom and..." 

"And?" 

Blue glanced back at him, then said quietly, "Mr. Grey was the one who killed Ronan's brother." 

Adam stared at her. "Jesus." 

She nodded, sighing.  

"Jesus," Adam said again. He could imagine the sort of things Ronan would have done in response to that, especially if his father react the way Niall Lynch tended to react to things. He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. 

Blue leaned towards him. "Adam?" 

"It's fine." Now Adam was the one chewing his lip. "I just wanted to talk to him."  

Blue Sargent might not be psychic, but Adam was absolutely certain she picked up on a lot more than most people. The look she was giving him now, for instance, was deep and intense and so knowing that Adam felt slightly embarrassed. Had Ronan told her? He knew they hung out sometimes but he didn't think Ronan was the type to talk about...well...that sort of thing. 

"You can talk to me you know, I'm your friend too," Blue said. "I don't want this to be awkward just because we kind of sort of dated for five minutes. But it _is_ awkward when I only ever hear things second hand from other people." 

Adam blinked at her slowly. "Huh?" 

"What happened to _you_ this weekend?" she asked. "Mom said Gansey called the house yesterday asking if we'd heard from you." 

"Oh." Adam fidgeted. He hadn't intentionally not told Blue but to be fair he had only _just_ gotten back to Henrietta, and there was a lot weighing on his mind. 

Blue did not look particularly pleased. "Did you just come here to talk to Persephone or were you going to let me in on what's going on too?" 

For a brief second Adam felt something hot and painful explode inside his chest. His jaw tensed, but he pushed back against it, he fought down the urge to lose his temper; he tore it up. _You're being stupid_ , he told himself. _Blue_ is _your friend, she can help, she deserves to know_.  

He took a deep breath, let it out, then nodded. "Of course I was gonna tell you, Blue. A lot's happened since Friday it's hard to..." But he trailed off and made a vague gesture with one hand. Gathering himself again, he told Blue about everything; about the party, about the hallucinations, about his lost day. He even told her about the not so subtly delivered gifts that the Ganseys had given him. He did not tell her about the kiss, because he didn't have words for how he felt about that just yet. 

"So that's what happened," he finished. "I'm sure it has something to do with the ley line and Cabeswater." 

Blue nodded, slowly. "You _are_ going to need Persephone to help with this one," she agreed. 

"He's going to need you too, Blue," said a quiet voice from the doorway. "So I hope you weren't planning on going anywhere." Both teens looked up. Persephone stood in the doorway, though how long she had been there was hard to say, neither of them had noticed her appear.  She smiled dreamily when they looked at her, then motioned them both to their feet. "We had better get started. We have a lot of work to do." 

*** 

On Monday morning, Ronan awoke to a series of texts from Gansey: 

_-Back in Henrietta._  

_-What the hell._  

_-WHAT THE HELL RONAN YOU SAID YOU WRECKED IT._  

Ronan sat up in bed, grinning at his phone. For a brief moment he forgot about how terrible his weekend had been in the delight of picturing Gansey's face when he saw the dream Camaro parked in the Monmouth Manufacturing parking lot. It was a shame he hadn't been there to see it for himself.  

While he was holding the phone it buzzed again: 

_-You told me you wrecked it. You don't lie. What did you *do*?_  

That answer would have to wait. Ronan wanted to get whatever punishment his father had lined up for him finished as quickly as possible. 

*** 

It was late in the evening when Ronan finally drew near to the end of the chores Niall had given him around the farm. To be perfectly honest it wasn't much of a punishment; Ronan didn't mind farm work and besides that it gave him something to focus on and kept him out of his father's way. Maybe that was the real reason Niall had tossed the list at him over breakfast.  

Ronan was just finishing spreading mulch on the flower beds in front of the house when a car pulled up in the driveway. It was not a car he recognized, and in fact it looked like three different cars had been torn up and welded together. Ronan straightened, brushing his hands off. 

Adam got out of the driver's seat. He lifted one hand in greeting, closed the car door, then walked over to Ronan. "I called. Your mom said it was safe for me to come over." 

"She didn't ask me if I wanted to see you," Ronan said, but the smirk he threw Adam was entirely teasing. 

"Ass," Adam said, punching his shoulder. Then his expression sobered. "Blue told me what happened on Friday." 

Something thick and oily and acrid curdled in the pit of Ronan's stomach at the mention of Friday. He was having a hard time reconciling that feeling with the wild, elated energy on Adam's face. Giving him a hard look Ronan retorted, "And Gansey told me what happened to you on Saturday." 

"It was Cabeswater," Adam said. "And the ley line. It got drained somehow and—" 

Ronan's lip curled a little. "I know exactly how that happened. Kavinsky." 

" _Kavinksy_?" Adam parroted, his eyes widening. "What...how?" 

"He can do the same thing me and Dad can," Ronan said. "We've got three dreamers on the same ley line." 

Adam was quiet for a minute. He looked like he had at least ten different things he wanted to say to Ronan, but he filed them away for later and said slowly, "It's like when you plug too many things into the same socket and blow a fuse." 

Ronan made finger guns at him. "Right on the nose." 

"That's good, that means what Persephone and I were doing was right," Adam said. He rubbed the back of his shoulder, brow creasing just a little, his expression thoughtful. Then all at once he gave himself a little shake and refocused on Ronan. "Did Kavinsky have to do with why you're in trouble with your parents?" 

"I don't want to give him too much credit," Ronan said. "But basically. I needed to get away from this place after what happened. And I was sick of my dad not telling me anything about dreaming. So..." 

Now Adam's face had taken on a mildly repulsed expression. "So you went to Joseph Kavinsky?" 

"Look, man, I don't like him anymore than you do but he knows how to pull dream things out. Beggars can't be choosers." 

"You could've chosen not to learn it!" Adam said.  

Ronan shrugged. "Anyway. He uses sleeping pills—sort of—to help and I was still out of it when I got home yesterday." 

Adam's eyes narrowed. "You mean you were stoned. God you're such an idiot, Ronan." 

"Whatever." Ronan turned and kicked the side of the empty wheelbarrow beside him. It tipped over sideways onto the grass. "I think I had a pretty goddamn good reason for it." 

"Doesn't mean you're not an idiot." 

Ronan cracked a grin. "Probably not." 

They were quiet for a minute. Ronan leaned over to straighten the wheelbarrow, then walked over to sit on the front steps. Adam followed after a beat, sitting next to him, so close that Ronan could feel the heat of Adam's skin against his bare arm. Crickets chirped distantly, and in the grass fireflies were starting to wink as they puttered around.  

Adam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He let out a long sigh. "So..." 

"So...what?" Ronan asked.  

"You _know_ what, Ronan, c'mon." 

Ronan _did_ know what. The past four days might have felt like an eternity but he wasn't about to forget what the soft warmth of Adam Parrish's lips against his felt like. Or how much he wanted to kiss him again. But he didn't know how to say that. Neither of them were very good at this, that's what the problem was, really.  

"There's just been...so much..." Adam said vaguely. He was still leaning forward, gazing out at the darkening mass of the forest across the front yard from them, the forest that separated the Lynchs' land from the highway on the other side.  

Something inside Ronan's chest dropped rapidly. His shoulders slumped. "Okay. Sure. I get it." 

"Huh?" Adam looked at him, startled and it was in that second that Ronan realized the statement hadn't been for him it had been more Adam talking to Adam. He shook his head. "That's not what I meant." 

Ronan Lynch had done many difficult things in his life. Things that made his pulse race and his head swim and made him feel like he was about to pass out. Ranking up among them was the force he had to exert to make himself say one word, "So..." 

Adam started to laugh. He covered his face with both hands, shoulders shaking. "Jesus, Lynch. You're literally the worst, you know that?" he said, laughter still coloring his words.  

And to Ronan's deepest surprise, he found himself smiling. Shaking his head, but smiling, for the first time in what felt like weeks, months even. He reached up and cupped his hand against the back of Adam's neck. He leaned in and kissed him. 

This time Adam responded, one hand resting on Ronan's arm, the other on his hip, Adam leaned in as much as their awkward position on the steps allowed. It was not a particularly magical or even a particularly well-executed kiss; there was a lot of turning so their noses didn't crunch together and no one really warned you just how wet kissing could get, it really was a strange concept... 

But Ronan could feel Adam smiling against his lips, and that, honestly, was enough. 

After a minute they drew apart. Adam sat back. He touched his mouth, then let out a long breath. He still had one hand on Ronan's arm. Then he let out another laugh, this one more surprised than anything else. 

"What's the matter with you?" Ronan asked, raising his eyebrows. 

Adam shook his head. "Sorry, I'm laughing at myself this time, I swear." He rubbed his chin with the side of his thumb. "It's, uh, it's my birthday today." 

Ronan blinked at him. "Shit man, I didn't get you anything." 

"Oh shut up," Adam said, jostling Ronan good-naturedly with his shoulder. He let out a breath and leaned against him. "This...this is fine. This is enough." 

"Good." Ronan said. He fell silent, watching fireflies dancing in the grass. After a minute he said, "Happy fucking birthday, Parrish." 

*** 

Aurora Lynch enjoyed a great many things in life. She took comfort in her family, in her faith, in her generally quiet and calm existence. Declan's death always lurked as a painful black burn at the edges of her mind, a hurt she never knew how to put into words exactly but at least it meant she would never forget him. (She wouldn't forget his serene smile either, or how he had his father's ability to charm just about anyone, or the sound of his laughter.) 

Aurora knew exactly what she was, too, but she was never angry about it. 

She'd heard a car outside that had to be Adam Parrish because a moment later she could hear the boys talking out on the front porch. Aurora decided to let them be. Matthew was on the couch in the living room playing video games and she told him that dinner would be ready soon so he should find a place to stop. Then she wandered down the hall, wondering if Niall was still outside or— 

The light in the study-slash-sitting room was on. Aurora paused by the doorway. Niall sat at his desk, his phone to his ear and a tight frown on his face. He didn't like whoever he was talking to. He didn’t like whatever they were talking about. He hadn't noticed Aurora yet either, and so she waited patiently for him to finish. 

"...is this some sort of guilt complex or have you just got a shite sense of morality?" Niall was saying. He tipped his chair back a little, running the fingers of his free hand through his hair. His jaw was set defiantly and his whole posture spoke of bravado.  "All right. Well, messed up reason or no...aye...Look I don’t give a flying fuck what you tell him as long as you keep Ronan's name out of it...Good enough. I'm done talking about this." And with that he unceremoniously dropped the phone on the desk, then folded his hands behind his head and leaned back with a sound that was half sigh, half groan. 

Aurora walked over to stand behind him then. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her cheek against his. He felt tense in her arms, even as he tipped his head back against her shoulder, eyes closed. Aurora hummed wordlessly, kissing his cheek, resting her hand against his chest, fingers toying with a button on his shirt. 

"I am so tired," Niall whispered.  

"I know, my love," she murmured, holding him a little tighter. "I know." 

He sat up straighter, lifting his hands to rest on her arm that was still wrapped around him, but he didn't say anything else for several minutes. Finally however he said quietly, "That was Greenmantle's hitman. His ex-hitman, I should say." 

"Why's that?" Aurora asked. She circled around and sat in her husband's lap, draping one arm around his neck and absently running her fingers through his hair.  

"He's not going to turn Ronan in," Niall said quietly. "Apparently kidnapping is beneath him, but murder isn't." 

Aurora shifted a little. "Do you believe him?" 

"Either way, it doesn't mean Greenmantle is going to let us off the hook," Niall said. He closed his eyes again and rested his head against Aurora's chest. "I want to kill them both." 

"You're not a murderer," Aurora murmured, running her fingers soothingly through his hair. "I know you aren't." 

"Then maybe I should give myself to Greenmantle, tell him it's just me, I'm the only Greywaren," Niall said bitterly. "If I was a half decent father I would've done that already." 

Aurora kissed his hair. "Shush." 

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, than Niall murmured something about washing up for dinner, patted Aurora's leg and gently nudged her off his lap. He stood, then paused long enough to give her a kiss before they went to round up the boys for dinner. 

*** 

Adam did not know what he had been expecting dinner with the Lynch family to be like. By the time he and Ronan came in from outside Matthew was setting the large kitchen table with five place settings, and the entire house smelled of food, and Aurora was carefully taking a dish out of the oven while Niall sliced bread at the counter. There was a lot happening but they all seemed to know what they were supposed to be doing, while Adam stood off to the side watching with a curious expression. 

Hands were washed, glasses were filled, and Adam found himself sitting on one side of the table with Ronan, Matthew across from them, Aurora on Adam's other side and Niall at the other end.  

"Right, Matthew, I think it's your turn tonight," Niall said, once everyone had settled down. 

Ronan rolled his eyes, but obligingly ducked his head, reaching over to grasp his father's hand and Adam's while Matthew began a rather fast and breathless, " _Bless us oh Lord and these..."_ after which everyone crossed themselves then dinner began in earnest. 

"This all looks really good, Mrs. Lynch," Adam said as Aurora passed him a bowl of seasoned potato wedges. "Thank you for having me." 

Aurora beamed at him. "Of course, we don't have many visitors over, we're always happy to...Now, Ronan said something the other day about you planning on going to college right after you graduate, have you started thinking about where, or is it a little early for that yet?" 

It was all so surprisingly comfortable. Even Niall seemed a little less hard around the edges at dinner, laughing and talking with the boys and Aurora, asking Adam about how his jobs were going, telling him about how he had worked at a mechanics for a bit when he was a teenager back in Belfast but not very long because he hated the other men who worked there. 

Adam didn't think he could remember his parents ever sitting down to dinner like this with him. Or with anyone. It felt so unreal that he wondered for a second if he _was_ starting to have another vision. And with that came the fear all over again. 

Then Ronan rested his hand on Adam's leg under the table. Lightly, and only for a moment, but enough to distract Adam and bring him back. 

*** 

After dinner had been cleared away Adam and Ronan went to watch TV in the living room while Niall and Matthew went to work on some project in the study. Adam didn't really pay attention to whatever show was on; he was too distracted by Ronan's fingers running lightly over his, and the back of his hand, and up his arm then down again. Adam turned his hand over and closed his fingers around Ronan's hand for a moment, brushing his thumb against the inside of his wrist. 

At some point Ronan got up to use the bathroom. Only a second or two after he disappeared Aurora stepped into the room and set a plate of what turned out to be cupcakes on the coffee table. Adam stared at them like he'd never seen one before in his life, then looked up at her.  

"Ronan told me," she said, smiling a little. "I hope you don't mind. They don't have to be for your birthday if you don't want but, well, you're here and so are they."  

Adam couldn't even manage a thank you, he just nodded. 

Ronan was coming back in just as Aurora was leaving, which resulted in him having to suffer a tight hug and kiss from his mother before he could return to his spot on the couch. He eyed the cupcakes then elbowed Adam. "Hey, Parrish, you okay?" 

"I dunno, I think I might be hallucinating again," Adam said. He wet his lips. "Your mom's always so nice to me." 

"Why wouldn't she be?" Ronan asked, leaning forward to grab two cupcakes and hand one to Adam. Unwrapping his, he ate about half of it in one bite, then draped an arm across the back of the couch behind Adam's shoulders and settled in further. 

Adam didn't unwrap his cupcake. He held it in both hands, staring down at the chocolate frosting and the pastel blue wrapper as though trying to savor even just the sight of it. This night had been so soft and perfect that he never wanted it to end, though he knew deep down that it had to, eventually. 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

It was early on the morning of the Fourth. Ronan and Adam were already back in Henrietta, partially to drop Matthew off with some friends to watch the parade, partially so Adam and Persephone could get started on fixing the ley line, and partially so Ronan could escape the Barns before either of his parents remembered that he was definitely still supposed to be grounded.  

The day was hot, the air felt electric, and the heat was building towards the spectacular thunderstorm threatened both by the weather service and the bank of clouds already piling up just past the mountains. It gave the day an eerie, expectant feel. Whenever Ronan looked at the clouds he felt goosebumps rise on his arms despite the warmth of the air.  

"I woke the ley line, I have to be the one to take care of it," Adam was saying in response to Ronan's fifth attempt to get him to accept an offer of help. "Besides you need to figure out how to get Kavinsky to stop dreaming up things." 

Gansey had texted them while they were driving up to inform Ronan that Joseph Kavinsky had left a gleaming white Mitsubishi in the parking lot of Monmouth Manufacturing with a post-it on the window that read " _For Lynch_." 

Thinking about it made Ronan's stomach turn unpleasantly. The sole memory to crawl unbidden and unwanted out of the trash heap that had been the past weekend was the specific recollection of Kavinsky's fingers on his bare back while he lay on the hood of a different Mitsubishi, lost in a drug induced, half asleep haze. Another cold shiver ran along his skin. 

"I could just kill him," Ronan said. 

Adam stared at him. "What?! Ronan I'm serious." 

"So am I." 

Adam took his hand off the wheel to punch Ronan's shoulder. Then he started up the car. "You and Blue can figure something out that doesn't involve killing anyone." 

Ronan leaned back in his seat. Adam started the car up and pulled back out into the street to take them to 300 Fox Way. The heat and lack of air conditioning in the Hondoyota made Adam's skin shine a little, the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks standing out. There was a crease between his eyebrows too and the corners of his mouth were turned down. He was completely focused on the ley line, Ronan knew. 

"Hey." Ronan reached over and put his hand on the back of Adam's neck, thumb rubbing the spot just below his ear. He wasn’t sure if this kind of intimate and unprompted contact was allowed yet, but he needed to ground himself as much as Adam clearly did. 

Adam glanced at him. His gaze was as static and charged as the air around them. "I know," he said, in response to Ronan's unspoken question. 

*** 

Almost the minute they arrived at 300 Fox Way Adam and Persephone rushed off again to get started on the ley line, leaving Blue and Ronan alone with each other for the first time since the disastrous events of that past Friday. For a minute the two of them stood in the hallway, silently not looking at each other. 

Finally Blue huffed and said flatly, "Are you mad at me? Because if you are that's not fair." 

"Why would I be mad at you?" Ronan asked. 

"I don't know, the last time I saw you you yelled at me," Blue said, eyeing him.  

Ronan held up his hands at chest height. "I'm not mad at you." 

"Okay." Blue gave a little nod. "Well I'm not mad at you either. I think you're a dumbass, but I'm not mad at you." 

Grinning, Ronan tried to ruffle her hair, which resulted in a little scuffle of Blue trying to slap his hands away and him trying to grab her.  

"Okay," Blue said again, and this time she was smiling a bit. "Okay. So Adam and Persephone are gone all day, what should we do?" 

Ronan pulled out his phone to check the time. "I gotta pick Matthew up at noon after the parade, but that's it. Parrish suggested we brainstorm how to convince Kavinsky to stop dreaming shit so he doesn't go and ruin the ley line again after they fix it. Should we call Gansey to come get us?" 

Blue nodded, then hesitated and gave Ronan a look as though she just realized something. "Wait—where's your car?" 

"At the Barns." 

"How did you get here?" 

Ronan shot her a sideways look. "Parrish drove me." 

"From the Barns." 

"What're you getting at, Maggot?" 

Blue made a very cat-got-the-canary face at him then held out her hand. "Nothing. Give me your phone I'll call him." 

*** 

The Gray Man had been enjoying a quiet morning reading in the sitting area of his rooms at the bed and breakfast when someone knocked on the front door. He set his book down slowly, watching the door. The person knocked again. Carefully the Gray Man stood and went over to look out the peep hole. Niall Lynch stood on the other side and for a long minute the Gray Man considered simply not opening the door.  

He did anyway. 

"Dean Allen," said Lynch, without any preamble. His gaze was cold, but his posture did not suggest violence. 

The Gray Man somehow managed to not look surprised. "Niall Thomas Lynch?...What are we doing?" 

"I did my homework," Niall said. "I know about your brother and I can guess that's what Greenmantle is holding over you." 

The Gray Man leaned against the doorway. "Maybe he's just paying me well." 

"Greenmantle would never pay well if he could get the same effect by threatening someone." 

"Fair enough. But I don't think that's how _you_ work, Lynch." 

Niall gave him a joyless, frozen smile. "You're going to let me in, Mr. Allen. And you're going to hear me out because that's the fucking least of what you owe me." 

The Gray Man did not comment on that. He stepped aside, motioning Lynch in then closing the door behind them and locking it. Niall went to sit on the couch, adopting an almost too-relaxed, jaunty sort of slouch. The Gray Man sat down across from him, decidedly less relaxed. 

"First let's get one thing clear," Niall said. "I will never forgive you. I don't care what you do for me, it will never change the fact that you killed my son." 

"It wasn't personal," said the Gray Man. 

Niall let out a sharp, furious bark of laughter. "Is that supposed to make it better? You only killed Declan because someone paid you? My son's life was just goods and trade to you? Shut the _fuck_ up before I go back to my original plan and send Greenmantle your still warm heart in a box. Assuming you've even got one. Or that it's warm to start with." 

The Gray Man said nothing, but he doubted that Niall Lynch would actually kill him. He doubted that Niall Lynch had ever killed anyone, despite his bluster and bark. He _could_ probably beat the shit out of the Gray Man though, and that wasn't a very nice prospect so it wasn't difficult to get the Gray Man to listen. 

"The only way this ends, for any of us," Niall said. "Is with Greenmantle gone. Dead. Out of the picture. Whatever it takes. The problem is that he's a dead man switch—who knows what'll go off if he's taken down. Lucky for us, he doesn't like to do things himself, he gets other people to do it for him. So…" He held his hand out, clearly expecting the Gray Man to see where this was going. 

"He loses his power over me if I kill my brother," the Gray Man said. He frowned. "You would need an army of hit men to take out every single person who runs with Colin Greenmantle." 

Niall shook his head. "I'm not aiming for a bloodbath. But loyalties shift, new, better leaders arise and people start following them." 

The Gray Man let out a disbelieving laugh. " _You_?" 

"Watch it," Niall said, unamused. "But no, not me. I'm not that deluded, I'm a businessman, not a leader. I know someone else who is though. Someone who's been in the business for a while, who people already trust if they're stupid or fear if they're smart." 

For a moment the Gray Man frowned at him, then realization dawned and he let out a soft breath. "Min-Seo Cheng," he said. "Seondeok." 

"Seondeok," Niall said. "That woman practically controls the entire west coast. I've already spoken with her a little about the current state of affairs. There's no love lost between her and Greenmantle or his cronies." 

"Jesus," murmured the Gray Man, rubbing his jaw. He needed to shave. "You _trust_ her?!" 

Niall gave him another cold smirk. "I said she's my friend, I didn't say I trust her. But she named herself after a revolutionary queen for a reason." 

"Alright," the Gray Man said slowly. "That sounds like a plan, then, I guess. I still don't see what you need me for in all of this." 

"Greenmantle knew what he was doing putting you on me again," Niall said. "He knew I'd figure out who you are, what you did, and he's trying to mess with my head because that's how he works. I'm proving him wrong. I know how to fuck with people too. So are you in?" 

"Yes," said the Gray Man after a moment. He held out his hand. 

Niall Lynch just looked at it, lip curling. "I'm going to put a bullet through your head someday, Dean Allen. I'm not shaking your hand." 

"Fair enough," the Gray Man said.  

"Right." Niall got to his feet. "I'll be in touch." 

*** 

At noon Gansey drove Ronan and Blue into the center of town to pick up Matthew from the Fourth of July parade. Even with the sweltering heat and impending storm there were a lot of people there, parents and children and summer Aglionby students. They parked the Pig then got out, Ronan leading the way through the crowd and looking for Matthew. He spotted one of Matthew's friends from school, Nathan Lively, sitting on the tailgate of a pickup truck with some other Aglionby underclassmen. 

The younger boys all gaped a little as Ronan Lynch and Richard Gansey III walked over to them. They all knew Matthew of course but it was easy to forget that Matthew was Ronan's little brother. 

"Lively," Ronan said. "You seen Matthew?" 

Nathan Lively was always a nervous boy, and now he twisted his Apple watch anxiously around his wrist, looking everywhere but at Ronan's face. "Yeah he said he was going to get a soda from the drugstore. He's been gone uh…" he stopped fidgeting with his watch to look down at it. "Um, wow, he's been gone like twenty minutes." 

Ronan turned and looked across the town square to the drug store. Even on the busiest of days it wouldn't take twenty minutes to go in and get a soda. Still, Matthew might have gotten stalled by one of the old ladies from church or…He started across the square. Blue or Gansey might have said something to him but he ignored them, pushing through the door of the drugstore into the air-conditioned interior.  

No Matthew.  He wasn't down any of the aisles, or over by the counter, or outside on the sidewalk. 

"Hey, _Ronan_ ," Gansey said as he followed Ronan back outside. "There's a very easy solution to this and it's called use your damn phone. There's hundreds of people here he probably just wandered off with a different group of friends." 

As Ronan was taking his phone out of his pocket, it buzzed with an incoming text from Matthew's number: 

_whats_ _up_ _mofo_  

It was not what Ronan was expecting. It was not the sort of thing Matthew said, ever. And then a second text came in, except this one was from Kavinsky: 

_whats_ _up_ _mofo_  

"Ronan?" Gansey said. From what he could see Ronan had taken his phone out and frozen, staring at it for a full minute without saying anything. 

And Ronan still didn't answer him, instead hitting the call back button and holding his phone to his ear. As soon as the ringing stopped he hissed, "What the fuck are you doing?" 

"Princess," Kavinsky drawled. "Saw you and trailer trash drove into town together. How's Dick feel about the fact that you're cheating on him? Or is he too busy with Smurfette?" 

"Where the hell is Matthew?" 

Kavinsky let out a sharp, exaggerated sigh. "I'm sick of you playing hard to get, it's not cute anymore. I asked nicely if you're coming to the Fourth. I even left a motherfucking car for you. So hear this, you Irish Catholic cocksucker: bring something fun tonight, or I'm gonna find out which pills work best on your little brother. Oh and babydoll?" 

"What?" Ronan snarled. 

"Blow me." 

"Fuck you," Ronan spat into the phone, but Kavinsky had already hung up. As Ronan fought the urge to throw his phone down on the sidewalk he looked up and found both Blue and Gansey staring at him. "We have to fucking find Kavinsky." 

*** 

Blue knew where Kavinsky _probably_ was, but they checked other places first: Kavinsky's house (empty), the abandoned fairgrounds (also empty, except for the dream cars), a few other spots. As the afternoon was finally starting to fade into evening and Ronan's panic was reaching a critical mass, however, Gansey finally turned the Pig in the direction of the drag strip where Kavinsky's infamous Fourth of July party was to be held.  

Glancing over at Ronan who sat chewing on his bracelet's in the passenger seat of the Camaro, Gansey said, "Is your phone still charged?" 

"I'm not calling the police, man," Ronan said. "They won't do shit." 

"Maybe not," Gansey said, craning his neck to see the sky as thunder boomed somewhere. "But your dad will." 

*** 

What happened was this: 

As evening fell they found the party, and Kavinsky, as expected. 

No Matthew. 

Kavinsky, out of his mind, as expected.  

Kavinsky popping a green pill. 

Ronan following him. 

*** 

The party pulsed and crashed while the black sky above was split by forks of lightning.  

"Oh God," Gansey shouted over the music, one hand in his hair as he stared at the two unconscious boys, Kavinsky on the hood of his car, Ronan in the driver's seat. "Oh _God_ ," he said again, then turned to Blue. "Okay. Okay we have to find Matthew…"  

They both turned and rushed towards the line of ten identical Mitsubishi Evos. Blue felt dizzy; she hadn't had anything to drink, she hadn't taken any drugs, but the deliriant, dissociative effects of being in the middle of all this music and flashing lights made her feel like she was dreaming. No, not dreaming: like she was in the middle of a nightmare. It didn't help that she was opening the same doors and the same trunks on the exact same car over and over and not seeing Matthew in any of them. 

Headlights swept over her vision and for a second Blue didn't even register them because of all the lights and headlights that were already flashing. Then she looked up and saw that these belonged to a charcoal grey BMW and Niall Lynch was jumping out of the driver's seat. He hadn't seen her yet, and Blue paused, watching as he tucked something into the back of his waistband. 

"What…" Blue whispered, then to Gansey she said louder, "Mr. Lynch is here, Gansey!" Niall was looking their way now so Blue waved her hands in the air to get his attention.  

By the time he had ran over to her, Gansey was also at her side. Niall's expression was something wild, fear and fury. He spread his hands. "What happened?! Where's Ronan and Matthew?!" 

"Ronan's over there, sir," Gansey said, pointing. "Kavinsky—Jesus—I don't know. He's dreaming something and Ronan went after him. Matthew's in one of these cars." 

"Why—" Niall began, then he stopped, looking past Blue and Gansey, his head tilting back as he watched something rising into the sky. Whatever it was screamed. Or roared. It made a deafening sound so loud that Blue clamped her hands over her ears as she turned to see what it was.  

A dragon. An honest to god, fire breathing dragon spiraled upward, jaws wide as it roared again. The crowd had gone silent, everyone staring at this huge impossible thing. Gansey and Niall were both watching it as well, gaping, though they both knew where it had come from.  

Joseph Kavinsky was standing up, clambering onto the roof of his car. Ronan had fallen out of the driver's seat a little less gracefully.  

They all watched as the dragon turned and dove for the line of cars that was still too close for comfort. Niall shouted something wordlessly, grabbing both Gansey and Blue and hauling them backwards, then behind him, so he was between them and the dragon when it grabbed the car and flipped it as easily as if it was a toy.  

"He wasn't in that one!" Blue said to Niall, as it was one of the cars she had definitely checked already.  

Niall turned. " _RONAN!"_ he shouted, and it sounded like he had meant to say something else entirely but Blue didn't know what that would have been. 

Twenty yards away, Ronan met his father's gaze. He nodded, then lifted an arm above his head. Something else rose up from the other side of the car; not a raven, not a dragon, but a night horror, like the one he had dreamed up at the Barns earlier that month except pure white with furious red eyes. It too screamed into the night and shot after the dragon.  

Niall breathed something that might have been, "Hell is empty," before he took off running towards the line of cars. 

*** 

Ronan could not take in everything that was happening, but luckily he didn't have to. His night horror responded perfectly, doing whatever he needed it to without him asking. There were Blue and Gansey, and his father, still searching the last of the row of cars. There was the dragon diving towards them. There was the night horror, slamming into the dragon until the three figures had gotten clear. 

Through a haze of smoke and heat ripples, Ronan caught his father's gaze. Niall shook his head, eyes wide, hands spread helplessly; Matthew wasn't in any of the cars. 

Ronan turned his gaze back to Kavinsky. The lenses of Kavinsky's sunglasses were reflecting only flame. "Where is he?!" Ronan shouted.  

"Boom!" Kavinsky said as his dragon turned over the last of the row of other Mitsubishis before spiraling up into the sky again. 

The only car left was the one Kavinsky was standing on. Ronan's lungs burned from the smoke around them. He yanked the door open and dove in, hitting the button to pop the trunk. He could hear someone, his father maybe, shouting something but louder than that was the sound of the dragon's wings. Ronan ran towards the back of the car where Matthew as already clambering out of the trunk. 

The dragon was diving towards them. On top of the Mitsubishi, Kavinsky tilted his head back to watch it as it careened downwards. 

"You bastard, get the fuck down from there!" Ronan shouted, but Kavinsky just laughed, and laughed. The dragon wasn't stopping either. "Kavinsky!" 

The dragon collided with the car. Heat exploded outward for just a second, and Ronan wrapped himself around Matthew, squeezing his eyes shut. Someone else wrapped their arms around both of them and Ronan knew it had to be their father. He kept his eyes shut, pressed close, even as silence descended.  

Silence broken a moment later by a loud _whump_ , and the sound of a car crashing into something. 

Ronan lifted his head. The dragon lay in the dirt, unmoving. "Is it dead?" he asked hoarsely.  

"The dragon is sleeping," Niall said. He looked over Ronan's head at the prone form of Joseph Kavinsky. " _He_ is not." 

*** 

It was an appropriately grey afternoon as Niall Lynch and Mr. Gray stood outside one of the barns on Niall's property. Mr. Gray was on his way back to Henrietta, having dealt with his brother and (hopefully) helped to set into motion the cogs of whatever Niall Lynch's plan to deal with Greenmantle was. The boys and Aurora were not home, which really was the only reason Niall was allowing the Gray Man to be here.  

Niall called Greenmantle. More accurately he FaceTimed him, which was so unexpected that Greenmantle actually answered, fixing Niall with a disgusted look. "I am getting so sick of your shit, Lynch. If you're not calling to say you're sending the Greywaren to me…" 

"Actually, I'm calling because there's a couple of things I want to show you," Niall said. "Exhibit A…" He turned the phone so Greenmantle could see Mr. Gray. 

Mr. Gray waved his fingers. "Hi Colin. I quit." 

" _What_ ," said Greenmantle. 

"You heard the man," Niall said, turning the phone back to himself. "Now, can you read my lips? You are _done_. You are going to lose this one." 

Greenmantle stared at him stonily for a second. Then he dragged his hand down his face and groaned. "Oh, Niall Niall Niall…you still don't get it do you. I _am_ done—I'm fucking done with _you_. You think I can't hire a new hit man? You are _dead_. Your wife is _dead_. Your sons are _dead_. Do you get it now?" 

"Exhibit B," Niall said, ignoring him. He turned the phone to the other side now, so Greenmantle could see into the shadowy interior of the barn where the albino night horror was crouched.  

"What the hell is that?" Greenmantle asked as Niall turned the phone back on himself. 

Niall smiled. "A nightmare." 

"You still think you can scare me, don't you," Greenmantle said. "Listen, asshole, I don't care what big scary monsters you use the greywaren to pull out of your fucked up brain, I'm still going to be the one prying it from your cold dead hands in the end." 

"Oh, you aren't, boyo, you really aren't," Niall said. He leaned a little closer to the screen. "Because it's me, _asshole_. I am the Greywaren." 


	14. Chapter 14

One hazy morning a little over a week after the Fourth of July, Ronan stepped out of his bedroom just as Matthew was coming up the stairs, still in his pajamas. “Hey,” Ronan said, reaching over to ruffle his little brother’s hair.

“Hey.” Matthew tried half-heartedly to duck out of the way, then asked, “D’you know where Dad is going?”

“What?” Ronan had been turning towards the bathroom but he stopped and looked back at Matthew.

“I saw him putting his suitcase in the car,” Matthew said. “And he's wearing his business clothes.”

Ronan scratched his neck. Matthew looked so small and young standing there with his pinched expression that Ronan stepped back over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. “Maybe someone invited him to another livestock auction, it's probably nothing.”

Neither of them thought it was nothing.

“I'll ask him, okay?” Ronan said, stepping back. “Go get dressed.”

“Okay,” Matthew said, a little of his usual smile returning. He slipped past Ronan down the hall.

Ronan went to the bathroom, then headed downstairs into the kitchen where his parents were sitting at the table, Aurora reading on her iPad and Niall reading the newspaper. He was indeed wearing his good clothes; a button-down shirt, pressed trousers, and his suit jacket hung on the back of the chair. He looked up from the paper with a light smile when Ronan appeared.

“What's going on?” Ronan asked.

“And a good morning to you too,” Niall said. “Nothing. I have to go to Vancouver for a couple days, is all. I'll be back Friday.”

Ronan held out his arm to Chainsaw, who flew over from her perch by the window where she had been eyeing the wild crows in the yard. “Why?”

“The usual,” Niall said.

“That's not an answer.”

“Ronan sit down and have some breakfast, alright?” Niall said in a tone that indicated he did not have the patience for this, now or ever. “You don't need to worry about it.”

Ronan did think he needed to worry about it, but he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down with his parents anyway. He continued to watch his father. Niall was looking at his paper again, but his eyes weren't moving. “Sargent’s mom is still missing,” Ronan said.

Niall let out a long breath, then folded the paper up and lay it on the table. He clasped his hands and leaned forward a little to look at his son. "This business with the ley line, and Gansey's sleeping king...it's not a game, you know? I was hoping what happened a week ago would be enough to show you lot that."

"I know that," Ronan said, frowning. "What's that have to do with Sargent's mom?"

"Being the parent of magical children is not easy," was his father's reply. Niall drained his cup then and stood, stepping over to kiss Aurora. "I should get going or I'll not make my flight."

Aurora tugged him down for a second kiss, her expression unreadable. "Take care, my love."

"Aye," Niall murmured, letting his hand linger on her hair for a moment before he turned and grabbed his jacket. Pausing by Ronan's chair he squeezed his shoulder. "And you, Ronan, you behave yourself. Look after your little brother."

Ronan gave him a thumbs up but continued to look down at his cup.

Niall was not, apparently, satisfied by this and he leaned over, waiting until Ronan looked at him. "You'll be good for your mother, yeah?" Then, after a beat he said even lower, "I love you, alright?"

This alarmed Ronan more than if his father had said he was going to challenge Greenmantle to a duel. Niall was an affectionate person, and Ronan never once in his life doubted that his father loved him, but an explicit 'I love you' was not something either he or Matthew was used to hearing from him. So Ronan stared at his father for a good two seconds before managing a startled, "Yeah. I love you too."

"Good." Niall gave his cheek a pat before he straightened.

Matthew had appeared in the doorway then, wearing jeans and a Captain America t-shirt. Niall pulled him into a tight hug, and also told him to behave himself though this was purely a joke as Matthew never did anything _but_ behave himself. And then Niall was gone down the hallway, followed a second later by the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Ronan turned to his mother. "Why is he going to Vancouver?"

"For business," Aurora said lightly, looking up from her iPad.

"Not farm business though, is it."

Aurora seemed to consider this for a moment, then she shook her head. Still, she smiled gently at Ronan and put a hand on his arm, then glanced up at Matthew as well, who had paused in pouring himself some cereal. "You don't need to worry about it, my darlings, I promise. Your father will take care of things."

"Sure," Ronan said, lightly. He looked at his mother, trying to read something else in her expression but he couldn't.

"Now," Aurora said, sitting back. "I was supposed to tell you that you're officially un-grounded, so if you want to go see your friends after you've done your chores you can."

"Sweet," Ronan said, trying to keep his own tone light. He glanced at his brother. "You wanna come into town with me later?"

Matthew pondered this for a moment but shook his head. "Nah, I think I'm just gonna hang out with Mom." Aurora looked inordinately pleased by that.

***

When Adam finished at Boyd's for the evening the sky was striated with lines of red and gold and twilight blue. He was hungry, and tired; it wasn't even August yet but he was always thinking about school and tuition and the cost of college applications and whether or not he could keep putting more patches on his jeans, and so he'd been taking whatever extra hours he could at any and all of his three jobs, even if it meant working from before sunrise to after sunset.

Part of that was to keep himself from thinking too deeply about what had already happened that summer, and how it was distancing him even further from his friends.

He drove his beat up little car into the St. Agnes' parking lot and for a moment didn't even register that the dark BMW already waiting there was Ronan's. When he did, Adam moved a little faster to get out of the car and inside.

Ronan himself was sitting at the top of the stairs, waving a chain of paperclips around and trying to entice Chainsaw with it though in Adam's opinion the bird just looked deeply, deeply unamused with these antics.

"Hey, Lynch," Adam said.

"Parrish, geeze, took you long enough." Ronan dropped the paperclips. Chainsaw immediately snatched them up. Grinning, Ronan spread his arms. "I'm a free man as of this morning."

Adam raised his eyebrows, biting his lip. "Not grounded anymore?" He started up the steps. When he reached the top and took out his keys Ronan got to his feet, standing close to him.

"My sentence has been fulfilled, I am no longer on Mater and Pater's shit list."

"Hah," Adam said. He unlocked the door and let the two of them plus Chainsaw into his room.

Ronan barely gave Adam a chance to close the door before he caught him lightly around the waist, tugging him closer. "Hey."

"Hey," Adam said. He was hyper aware of how close they were now, of Ronan's hands still resting on his sides, of Ronan's entire presence so close to him. This was followed by a brief flash of panic in which he was certain there was something he _should_ be doing or saying but was at that moment completely beyond him.

Then Ronan kissed him and he didn't think about much of anything. His mind was quiet, as quiet as Cabeswater, as quiet as the bottom of a lake, still and dark and restful. Another kiss followed the first, but then Adam felt like he couldn't breathe and he broke away, resting his forehead against Ronan's shoulder while Ronan ran his fingertips up Adam's spine.

"I was gonna say we could take some pizza over to Monmouth and hang out but if you're..." Ronan trailed off. It felt like he was burying his nose in Adam’s hair.

Reluctantly, Adam lifted his head from Ronan’s shoulder. For a moment he considered it, asking if they could just stay here, have dinner with just the two of them, but he felt guilty and selfish. He didn't know where this strange tension his brain was starting to associate with Gansey even came from, but he was certain it wasn't fair. Besides, Ronan was Gansey's friend too.

“No that sounds great,” he said. “Lemme just change into something less greasy.”

Ronan wiggled his eyebrows and let out a whistle. Adam punched his shoulder, but found himself smiling just a little as he went over to get jeans out of his dresser then step into the bathroom to change.

***

When they arrived at Nino’s a very tired looking Blue was just coming out of the employees only door at the back. Her face lit up when she saw them and she hurried over. “Hey, guys, I just got done.”

“What shift ends at 8pm?” Ronan asked, as though he had ever worked a job that involved shifts.

“One that involves Cialina asking you to cover part of hers without specifying that ‘part’ actually means three hours,” Blue said, folding her arms over her chest. She glanced at Adam, then back to Ronan. “What are you two doing?”

“Taking pizza over to Gansey’s,” Ronan said.

Blue nodded. “Cool, I'll come with. Beats going home right now.”

For a minute both boys peered at her. Adam chewed the inside of his lip wishing there was something he could possibly say to make Blue feel better about her missing mother. Blue scowled back at them as though daring either to say something.

Ronan inhaled sharply, making a funny sort of _snerk_ sound. “Yeah fuck that noise. Come hang out with us. Let’s get food first though Parrish is gonna keel over if we don't make him eat.”

***

Letting themselves into Monmouth Manufacturing a little while later they found Gansey reading on his bed while Noah sat on the floor rolling a matchbox car along the streets of Gansey's model of Henrietta. The miniature town was currently a little post-apocalyptic looking, as it was in a state of half disrepair following the break in from a couple weeks ago.

Noah looked up as the trio entered, and his drowsy face became a little less drowsy and a little less smudgy as they crossed the room. “Oh hey guys.”

Gansey set the book down that he had been reading. “Well isn't this a pleasant surprise. And how is everyone?”

“Ronan is un-grounded and Adam is tired and I don't want to go home,” Blue said. She looked around then dragged over a cardboard box for Ronan to put the pizzas on.

They all clustered around. Ronan dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, Adam sat down a little more carefully next to him. Blue and Gansey sat on the couch. Noah hovered for a moment before sitting on Ronan's other side. For a minute or two after they settled the room was silent, everyone focusing on their food.

Ronan was the first to break the silence. "My dad randomly went to Vancouver today."

"Why?" Gansey asked, frowning. "What's in Vancouver that your dad would be involved in?"

"Not farming," Ronan said. "And he would've said something if it was for music shit. He's planning something, I know he is. But as usual he just keeps telling me _not to fucking worry about it_." The last part was said in a fair imitation of his father's accent. Next to him Adam stifled a laugh and Noah grinned widely.

"Maybe he's got a point," Gansey said. He scratched his forehead and pushed his glasses up his nose, frowning down at the pizza slice in his hand. "Let him worry about that, we can focus on where to go next with the ley line. Adam? I don't suppose you have any thoughts on that?"

Ronan spoke before Adam could. "Parrish is wiped out, man, leave him alone."

"Oookay," Gansey said, looking at him with raised eyebrows. He glanced at Adam, but Adam was focused on eating. "I was just asking."

Blue made a disgruntled noise. "C'mon, guys, if you're just going to fight then I _will_ go home."

"We're not fighting," Gansey said, blinking at her.

“Ronan?”

Ronan smiled (smirked) and shook his head. “It's all good, Sargent.”

“Okay then.” Blue didn't look entirely convinced, but she accepted it anyway.

Adam let out a quiet breath and took another slice of pizza. He didn't want anyone to be fighting either, but he also didn't want to _talk_ about the ley line. He didn't know how to talk about it, not yet. Not with Gansey. Persephone, maybe. He would have to seek her out the next time he had a day off work. But not now, he couldn't talk about it now.

***

It was very late indeed when they finally started clearing up. Late enough that Ronan's mother had called him to make sure everything was alright and to say that Niall had gotten to Vancouver just fine. Late enough that Adam was starting to feel fuzzy and ragged, and as nice as the evening ended up being he was thinking only of his own bed as he took the empty pizza box into the kitchen-bathroom-laundry.

Ronan followed him. "Hey," he said, stepping up behind Adam once they were out of sight of the main room. He slid his arms around Adam's waist, pressing against his back and resting his chin on Adam's shoulder. "You need to get out of here?"

"I'm not a little kid with a bedtime, Lynch," Adam murmured, though his eyes were closed and he leaned back against Ronan for just a second. "But...probably. Are you giving Blue a ride home too?"

"Probably," Ronan echoed. He lifted his head from Adam's shoulder and stepped back. "I can drop her off first though."

Adam frowned a little. "Her place is on the way from mine to the Barns that doesn't really make—"

"I can drop Sargent off first," Ronan said. He stared at Adam for a beat, then reached out and lightly flicked his shoulder. "Now move I gotta piss before we hit the road."

Dropping his chin, Adam let out an embarrassed breath of laughter. "Such a gentleman."

"Fucking right," Ronan said, stepping past him.

***

If Blue suspected any ulterior motive behind Ronan dropping her off first before going all the way back to take Adam home, she didn't say anything. Actually, Ronan was fairly certain at this point that Blue knew _exactly_ what was going on, but he did appreciate her keeping her mouth shut because he certainly didn't know what to say on the matter and he didn't think Adam did either.

Why was everything happening at once?

They got to St. Agnes’ and Ronan shut off the car. Adam did not move to get out yet. The yellow glow of the security light on the back of the church made the shadows of his face, the dark circles under his eyes all the more pronounced. Ronan frowned just a little as he gazed at him.

“Don't do it,” Adam said.

Ronan scrunched up his face. “Don't do what?”

“Just ‘cause you've kissed me doesn't mean you get to baby me,” Adam said. He reached out to rub the pad of his thumb against a scuff mark on the dashboard in front of him. “I mean it. I’m fine.”

“Whatever man,” Ronan said, shrugging. He looked down and ran his hands around the circumference of the steering wheel. The silence that followed was painfully awkward, but he also couldn't help but notice that Adam still hadn't gotten out of the car. “What?” Ronan said, a little harsher than he meant to.

Adam shook his head, smiling wearily. “Don't be a shit, Lynch.”

“Like that's going to happen,” Ronan said, but he leaned in when Adam put a hand on his neck, and returned the light kiss Adam gave him.

“Goodnight, asshole,” Adam said. “You going to be in town tomorrow?”

Ronan let out a breath of laughter. “I can be. Now go the fuck to sleep, Parrish. I'll see you.”

Adam got out of the car. Ronan waited until he had disappeared inside before starting up the BMW again and heading home.

***

When Ronan got home he found Matthew in the living room playing video games. The rest of the house was dark and quiet. Ronan took his boots off in the front hall then walked over to sit down next to Matthew on the couch. Chainsaw moved from his shoulder to the arm of the couch where she started preening herself.

"What're you playing?" Ronan asked.

"Dragon Age," said Matthew, not looking away as he appeared to be in the middle of some kind of battle that involved a lot of brightly colored spells. "You have fun with everyone?"

"Yeahuh. Mom in bed already?"

"Uhuh."

They lapsed into a companionable silence. Ronan slumped on the couch, watching the screen. He wasn't very much into video games himself but he was so drowsy at this point that he didn't really care what he was looking at. Matthew played for twenty more minutes or so then saved his game and shut off the TV. He scooped up Chainsaw, who had been patrolling the coffee table and cradled her in his arms, which she tolerated, because even animals couldn't help but like Matthew.

Then out of nowhere Matthew asked, "Hey, Ro? Do you miss Declan?"

"What?" Ronan stared at him. It wasn't that he hadn't heard Matthew, but this wasn't something Matthew had ever asked him in the two years since their brother died. Something vast and dark and dangerous tore open in Ronan's chest and he clenched and unclenched his hands before saying lowly, "Yeah, of course I do."

"Me too," Matthew said quietly, looking down at Chainsaw who was still in his arms, her feathers puffing up a little. "I miss playing soccer with him."

Ronan looked at Matthew. He felt that anxious energy building up inside him, but he kept looking at his little brother's face until it started to die down. Then Ronan reached over and put his hand on top of Matthew's head. "Hey, bud, look at me."

Matthew looked at him. His eyes were wide and blue and trusting.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you again, okay?" Ronan said. "No one else is gonna hurt you. I promise."

"Aw, sure, I know that," Matthew said.

Ronan ruffled Matthew's hair, then careful not to squish Chainsaw, he pulled Matthew into a hug. Matthew let out a little not-unhappy sigh, and Ronan held onto him for a minute.

He closed his eyes.

He rested his cheek against his little brother's golden hair and thought _I promise, I promise, I promise_ over and over and over.

He made sure he was not the first one to let go.

 


	15. Chapter 15

It was a cloudless summer afternoon. Niall Lynch sat at a small table in a small restaurant overlooking the Vancouver waterfront. Today he looked like his other self—the self he had given up when Declan died. In an expensive suit and expensive watch with his hair neatly styled, he did not look out of place among the upper-crust business people eating lunch at the tables around him. But he _felt_ out of place; he had not done something like this in what felt like a lifetime. 

"Should I be insulted that it took a matter of business to get you out here again?" asked a woman's voice above him. 

Niall glanced up then got to his feet, smiling as he did. "Seo, it's good to see you." 

Seondeok gave him a light smile before they exchanged a friendly embrace and kiss on the cheek. She was the kind of woman that people would first describe as having an "interesting" appearance, then after they looked at her a while longer it would be "striking" then "beautiful." Everything about her was meticulous and thoughtful. She had once told Niall that when your own mind has a habit of betraying you, the best you can hope for is absolute control in everything else.  

They sat down across from one another at the table.  

"I hear it has been an eventful summer so far," Seondeok observed.  

Niall nodded. "Your boy tell you what happened?" 

"No, Henry has been out here with me for the past few months," she said. "It was the school. Didn't you see? They sent out an email about the boy who died." 

"Joseph Kavinsky," Niall said, before he could stop himself. He didn't want to go into details of how and why he had been present at that particular event, but knowing Seondeok she would have figured it out. "Ronan knew him." 

Seondeok gazed at him. "That is unfortunate. How is he?" 

"Ronan?" Niall rolled his eyes. "A handful. Nothin' new about that. He's got a good group of friends though, so that's something." 

Seondeok nodded and turned her attention to her menu. Niall did the same and they were quiet for a few minutes until  the waiter returned, took their orders, and they were left alone once more. Seondeok clasped her hands on the table and leaned forward, raising her eyebrows expectantly.  

"What?" Niall asked, a smile creeping over his face. 

"I heard a very interesting rumor," she said quietly.  

He adopted a look of exaggerated confusion. "Oh? And what might that be?" 

"I heard that Niall Lynch is a fucking idiot who doesn't learn from his mistakes." 

"Oh, now that hurts," Niall said, tapping one finger against his glass. 

Seondeok did not look amused in the slightest. "I don't care if you managed to get _one_ of his hitmen on your side, why would you let Greenmantle see the cards up your sleeve? Why would you tell him that you are the Greywaren? Is that even true?" 

"I know what I'm doing," Niall said. "I have a plan." 

"Is it true?" she said again, but Niall merely stared back at her. Seondeok narrowed her eyes. After a minute she spoke again with a hint of new understanding, "You are protecting someone. And you _are_ lying about something." 

Niall leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table. "I want to bring Greenmantle to his knees. That's the truth." 

"You may wish to rephrase that," Seondeok said, humorlessly. "And do not _posture_ with me, Niall. I am looking out for my own interests right now and I am a bigger bully than you are." 

He gave a slow nod and lifted his glass to her in a small toast. Setting the glass down again, Niall kept his eyes on the table as he said, "There are two ways that we can convince people it’s a better idea to stand with us than to stand with Greenmantle. We either have to be _better_ or more _dangerous_ than he is." 

Seondeok tipped her chin down now, eyes half closed. "Neither of us are better people." 

"No," Niall said, smiling coldly. "No we're not." 

*** 

He had been a child of war. There were no two ways about it.  

Niall had been sent to live with an aunt and uncle in Belfast when he was just a baby, too young to remember his parents (dead), too young to remember peaceful Cumbria, too young to remember a life that did not involve a constant background of fighting in the streets and news reports about more and more bombings every day. The Troubles of Northern Ireland had been the first eighteen years of his life. 

Some years were worse than others. One week in early winter when he was six or seven stood out in his mind as being particularly bad; the ceasefire between the British army and the IRA had recently ended, and though Niall was too young to really know about that, even  he could tell that tensions were running high and there were a lot more men with guns around than he was used to.  

He had a sketchy recollection of walking home from school with his cousin Oonagh (three years old, who had trusted him with her?). They were supposed to take the long way round, because taking the shortcut meant walking down between two primarily Protestant blocks of apartments. Niall wasn't thinking about that so much as he was thinking about getting home where it was warm and his aunt would have a snack waiting for them. 

He knew, of course, that his family was Catholic, and that was Good, and he knew that the boys he saw loitering on the corner sometimes were _not_ , and that was Bad. 

This time he did not see the boys on the corner, at least not until he and Oonagh were almost to the end of the street. Then there the boys were, stepping out of an alley just ahead. Later, as an adult, he would retain only these scant few memories: Oonagh’s pudgy little arm in his hand, the smell of cold concrete, the taste of blood, the sharp impact of a boot, a sideways image of two British soldiers walking past, and the older boys shouting at him though he did not remember exactly what they said. 

And then he was stumbling into his aunt’s kitchen, dragging Oonagh after him, and both of them were crying but Niall was the only one with blood on his face. His aunt was only somewhat finished cleaning his face too when he felt his uncle's broad hand cuff him against the back of his head. 

"You stop that now, ay?" his uncle said, nudging Niall's aunt out of the way so he could crouch in front of the little boy. He put two fingers under Niall's chin, tilting his face up. "You don't _ever_ let them see you afraid, you hear? _Niall_!"  

Niall had been looking to his aunt, but she was fussing over Oonagh at the table. Taking a few hiccupping breaths, he looked back at his uncle.  

"I don't want t'hear that you've been crying," his uncle said. "The next time this happens, I want you t'look them dead in the eye and hit them back, but you do not let them see you scared. Do you understand, lad?" 

"But I _am_ scared," Niall mumbled, looking down at his scuffed shoes. 

His uncle prodded one finger against his chest. "Then you lie. Boys like them have no drop of goodness in their hearts and they _want_ you to be scared. They _want_ to fight scared little boys who'll cry when they fall down. There's people out there who'll kill ya just for what you are, but if you're not scared of them, then they'll be scared of you and you might just make it out." He straightened then, and pointed at Niall to add, "I catch you bawlin' like that again over a wee split lip and those boys won't be the only ones you've to worry about." And with that he left the room. 

Niall wiped his hand over his nose. He looked at his aunt again. She was holding Oonagh in her lap and looking very tired. Oonagh was quiet, but there were still big tears rolling down her cheeks.  

Sniffing one last time, Niall walked over to where he had dropped his school bag. He fumbled around in it until he came up with a small wooden horse, intricately carved and beautiful. He had fallen asleep a little during reading and woken with it in his hands. He walked over to the table and held it out. "Oonagh." 

His little cousin blinked, then took the horse in both hands. 

"Where did you get that?" Niall's aunt asked, frowning a little. 

"I had it," Niall said.  

His aunt sighed and smoothed his hair down, leaning over to kiss the top of his head. 

Niall chewed on his lip a little. "Is what Uncle Fionn says true? If I don't cry will the other boys be scared?" 

For a long time his aunt looked like _she_ might cry. She reached out and cupped her rough and calloused hand against Niall's cheek. All she said was, " _These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die, like fire and powder._ " 

Niall did not know what that meant, but he liked the way it sounded. 

*** 

Four years later, when he was twelve, Niall came downstairs one evening to find his uncle in the sitting room with two men Niall did not recognize. They wore clothes that looked a bit like military uniforms, and one had a gun propped up beside him, but neither were British soldiers. Niall's uncle was sitting in his armchair, the men on the couch, and none of them looked happy.  

As Niall appeared in the doorway his uncle was saying heavily, "I've got a wife and full house of kids, there's no one else you could ask—Niall what do y'want? Go back upstairs." 

"This one of your lads then?" said the older of the two strangers. He had keen black eyes and was looking at Niall intently.  

"My brother's boy," Fionn said, turning a little in his chair. "Niall, I'll not say it again." 

"No, let him come here a second," said the stranger. He beckoned to Niall. "You ain't scared, is ya?" 

Niall _was_ scared. He tilted his chin up and walked right over to the man. "No," he said, and then he smiled the slight smile he had perfected just for people like this. 

Both the strange men laughed, and the older one nudged his fist against Niall's shoulder. "Now there's a smile made for war! Good lad, _you_ know what's what. So tell me, since you're clearly the man of the house here—there's some very bad men who want to hurt my friends, and I came to nicely ask your uncle to help me, but I'm not sure he knows what to do with bullies."  

He put his hand on Niall's shoulder and half turned him so he was facing both the man and his uncle. Niall's uncle wore a strange expression on his face, his forehead furrowed, his mouth tight, his knuckles white as he gripped the arm of his chair. 

"Well what should you do with bad men who want to hurt ya?" asked the stranger again. 

"You look them right in the eye and you hit them back," Niall said, looking away from his uncle and to the man.  

Again the strangers laughed. It did not sound like they were actually happy. "You hear that, Fionn?" the younger man asked.  

Niall's uncle closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. 

The older man got to his feet and gave Niall a push towards the door. "Go on, lad, back upstairs. We have to have a word with your uncle outside. Go on." 

Niall was even more afraid now, but he did not hesitate, and did not look at his uncle again as he left the room. 

*** 

When Niall returned home after his trip to see Seondeok in Vancouver it was just after dinner on Friday. The sun had dipped below the mountains, but the sky was still light and the air was still warm and pleasant. He heard voices from behind the house so after he parked his car he circled around. 

Ronan and Adam Parrish were sitting on the grass attempting to assemble what looked like a large metal fire pit. Matthew and Aurora were watching from the porch steps, Matthew laughing as he watched his brother trying to decipher something in the assembly instructions. He looked up with a grin when he spotted Niall. "Dad! You're back!" 

"What're you lot up to?" Niall asked, giving Matthew's hair an affectionate tussle before leaning over to kiss Aurora. 

"Hey Dad," Ronan said. "Mom wanted a fire outside so we're trying to assemble this but it's shit." 

"I think _you're_ shit at reading instructions, Lynch, give it here," Adam said, laughing as he snatched the paper form Ronan's hands. 

Niall sat down on the steps as well. He put an arm around Aurora and kissed her temple, sighing softly as she leaned against him. 

"I missed you, my love," she murmured. "How's Seondeok?" 

"She's well," he said, watching the boys. Matthew had gotten up to go help them hold something. "She sends her greetings. Said she'll be here for parents day at Aglionby." 

Aurora nodded. "That's sometime in September I think." She lifted her head from his shoulder and gazed at him, then reached up and rubbed her thumb against his forehead. "What are you going to do?" she asked. 

Niall watched his sons for a long moment. "The right thing, I hope. We have a plan. It's not nice, but I want you and the boys to be safe. That's the most important thing." He glanced at Aurora and saw her expression was troubled. "Angel? What is it?" 

" _These violent delights have violent ends_ ," Aurora murmured. She was not looking at him, or at the boys in the yard, but out past them to the fields and the forest beyond. " _And in their triumph die like fire and powder_." 

He found there was nothing he could say to that. 

*** 

The day after his father returned from Vancouver, Ronan sat in the parking lot of  St. Agnes' in the driver's seat of his car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He had been there for a while already, since Adam had to go into work early and Gansey was off doing something mysterious. Finally, however, the front doors of the church opened and the choir began to file out. The choir was made up of a handful of people ranging from the very small to the very old, with Matthew Lynch quite literally in the middle of it all. Right now he courteously held the arm of little old Mrs. Espinoza, who had to be over ninety and looked like a tiny grey mouse next to Matthew. He handed her off to her son-in-law then came galloping towards Ronan's BMW.  

"Hey pal!" Matthew said cheerily as he barreled into the passenger seat.  

"Yo," Ronan said. He started up the car and let out a grateful sigh as the AC kicked in. "How was rehearsal?"  

Matthew settled down in his seat. "Oh it was great. I don't know why Mom didn't want to come."  

"It's because Dad was gone for a few days," Ronan said, which was the closest he would come to shattering his little brother's innocence by explaining that they had definitely been sexiled by their parents. He started backing out of the parking spot. "You hungry? We could grab sandwiches on our way back."  

"Always," Matthew said. He pulled his phone out and started playing with it.   

They drove back into town and stopped to get tuna fish sandwiches, which they ended up eating in the car because Ronan's hatred of the unusually hot summer day outweighed his hatred of the car temporarily smelling like fish. There were children in the park across the street but they appeared to be more congealing in the shade than actually playing.   

A car backfired somewhere which made Ronan think of Adam's shitty car, which made Ronan think of Adam, who was stuck working a long shift at Boyd's that day, which had to be miserable.   

"Hey, Matt?" Ronan said. He balled up the wrapper from his sandwich and crushed it between his fingers and the steering wheel.  

Matthew, still chewing, looked at him. "Yuh?"  

"What if I told you I was going out with Parrish?"  

"Oh, I really like Adam," Matthew said, with all his usual earnest enthusiasm. "He's nice. _Are_ you going out with him?"  

Ronan drummed the beat to the murder squash song on the dashboard with his fingertips. "I dunno. Maybe."  

Matthew scratched his nose and shoved his empty sandwich paper into his chip bag which he then shoved into the cup holder.  He fidgeted,  then looked at Ronan. "What?"  

" _What_ what?" Ronan countered.   

"Ro," Matthew laughed. "Stop. Are you mad? You look mad."  

"I'm not mad," Ronan said. He inhaled sharply through his nose and slowly exhaled through his teeth. He didn't know exactly what he was, but he wasn't mad. Then he laughed, sharply, though it was at himself not at Matthew. "I don't know why I thought you'd care that I'm gay."  

"Dur," Matthew said, making a face and punching his shoulder. "You're my big brother, Ro."  

"Yeah, well..." Ronan let his voice trail off. He didn't continue the thought. Instead he let himself enjoy that moment of relief. Maybe today wasn't so shitty after all.  

*** 

Some six hundred miles north of Henrietta, Colin Greenmantle was speaking to someone on the phone while his wife (lover? partner?) reclined nearby on the couch, her nose stuck in a magazine. 

"Listen to me. I need Niall Lynch alive. Do you know what that means? _Not_. _Dead_. Understood? Good. We're done." With a flip of his hand, Greenmantle dropped the cell phone onto the coffee table. 

"Now that's something I never thought I'd hear you say," Piper said without looking up. She sounded bored.  

Greenmantle rubbed the bridge of his nose. He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other and jiggling his foot. "If what that asshole says is true, then he _is_ the Greywaren. And that means I _need_ him." 

"That is also something I never thought I'd hear you say," Piper said. She did look at him this time, her lips dark red and twisted into a sadistic sort of smirk. "Tell me some more about how much you _need_ Niall Lynch." 

"Don't be obnoxious," Greenmantle said. “I want to either put him in a glass box or crack his brain open and see what makes him tick. The second option is more appealing because then I wouldn't have to listen to him anymore. How anyone could stand to be married to that man..." 

Piper made a great show of setting her magazine down and swinging her legs around so she was sitting upright on the couch, facing Colin. She folded her hands in her lap. "Well then, what are you going to do?" 

For several long moments he rubbed his jaw, then he said reluctantly, "We're going to have to go there." 

"Oh no no no," Piper's eyes narrowed, "there is no ' _we_ ', Colin. I am not tramping with you to the back end of fucking nowhere so you can hate-fuck your arch nemesis." 

"None of what you just said is accurate," Greenmantle said. "And I didn't mean right this minute. Eventually. Once Niall Lynch is ready to take me seriously or when he's so paranoid he won't be able to leave his house. You know how some people fish by throwing a firecracker in the water then they just scoop the dead fish off the surface?”  

Piper did not look like she believed that this was a legitimate method of acquiring fish, but all she did was raise her eyebrows. 

“Well, boom,” said Greenmantle. He picked up his phone again, dialed, and held it to his ear. After a minute he said by way of greeting, “It's me...I need you to get me whatever you can on the Ganseys.” 

 


End file.
